The leaves fall down like routine,
Their colors crisp and brown.
I want to freeze this moment
When November comes around.
As if on a schedule,
They all fall down at once.
Like a showering of leaves
That brings the change of months.
The first week is all so colorful,
The colors all so new.
But as the weeks go on,
There only stands a few.
The lonely leaves stand alone,
All other trees are bare.
It's as if they're waiting,
And they know that it's unfair.
Why must the season end so fast?
They ask and they ask.
Autumn could go on forever,
We would never be the last.
Don't all the others like the branch?
The one that feels like home.
When you're on the ground,
All you do is decompose.
No one wants the colors
To fade from red to brown.
It signals the end of Autumn,
And that November has come around.
Posted in response to the challenge Autumn '24: Writing.
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