Like elm leaves
Silently releasing
And floating softly
To the ground.
The golden light
Illuminates the red
On the sumac branch
More vibrantly
Than can be seen in summer.
Rattle against the soul
Like wind in the cottonwoods,
Swirling and tumbling,
Skittering in a rush
To nowhere in particular.
All the garden explodes
Into colorful bloom,
One last, glorious shout
Before winter rakes
Its scythe across
The land.
The fading days of autumn
Seep into the soul
Like frost settling to the ground,
And we draw ourselves
Together for warmth.
Breathes ghosts across the sky,
Illuminating the path
To forever.
We contemplate the garden's demise
And watch the resurrection
of flowers withered by summer's heat,
Forced to face our own
Withering and rebirth,
As the fading days of autumn
Fall upon the soul like rain.
Poem is the work and property of Sandra M. Siebert
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