‡Stephanie Rain‡
♣
Its fall
this is my favorite season.
theres nothing better than a cold brisk morning
with leaves tinged with blends of autumn
autumn, those breath taking colors that rain down from the top of the tree
and
seemingly smeer into neighboring trees
its becomes a rainbow of brillance
that stands night and day
rain or shine
through the wind, fog and mist
we watch in awe as they wither away before our eyes in splendor
and then there ane the leaves
the leaves
those leaves that still hang on to summer
those leaves are green,
but not the same green they were when the sun shown brightly upon them every day
ah it is those leaves that give the other leaves theyre contrast
it is those leaves that remind us how unique the brightly colored leaves are
it is those leaves that make every other single leaf so special
its fall
and as quickly as it came
it will leave just the same
so fast you dont realize its happening
and then one morning
you will wake up
to a cold nose
in a warm bed
you will open your eyes and catch a glimpse out of your window
the once faded soft gray of falls sky
will have become a relentless harsh gray that covers the sky
it becomes the backdrop from the outline of the tree who look to have lost theyre lives
standing alone in the darkness
the branches stretch out in memory of days ago
days of warm sun beating down on full lush leaves
the days before smmer turned to winter
before day turned to night
and those trees
those trees
they will stand there
dawn till dusk
until finally the day gives way to night before it has begun
and even then when it is nothing but darkness pressed against a gray sky
even then those trees will stand there
empty
children who have grown tired of the cold will sit in doors
an while they sit
something happens
kids
all kids
different kids
from different homes
different neighborhoods
they all
they all start singing
and smiling
they have a hope and a joy
they look away from the cold thinking of something
they look forward to one day
one day out of the whole year
and its almost here
one would think that a single day out of the year would easily be forgotten
overlooked
but not this day
they never forget christmas
and the singing
the resounding of many little voice christen in heavy clouds
heavy dark clouds
so gray its like specks of purple jumping around
and those clouds bring it
a thick blanket of rich white snow cover the barren land
those empty trees
the ones with theyre arms stretched out holding out theyre hands
the snow is given to them
and its there
everywhere
the black body of the trees barely escapes the frosty hold of the snow
just enough to create thin black lines randomly dispursed covered in white
all white
all white with black against the harsh gray sky
the gray sky
that gray sky that comes after the fall
after the trees lose everything
and stand there waiting for the sky to give them the snow
so they can sleep
rest under a blanket of snow
so when the first suns light up the sky with blue and white
so then the trees can get out of theyre grave
out of theyre bed of snow
so they can fill themselves
fill themselves with the leaves
the leaves that give the shade
the shade for those children
when christmas is gone and theyre small faces turn
to look towards the promise of summer
so those children can find shade and rest under those leaves
those leaves that allow them to wait
to wait for summer to come
and for summer to turn fall and fall to winter and for winter to turn to spring again
alwas again
so they can find themselves right here
under those leaves
these leaves
the leaves
under leaves
under leaves
under
leaves
just
leaves
