Wind chimes clanging together
A soft breeze chills the grass
Shivers go up threw your spine
As you sit alone

Under that old oak tree
On the hard wooden bench
Wind rustles up leaves
Scattering them across the lawn

One landing in your lap
Turning it over
Its shades of red
Red so violent
It’s only comparable to the sun

Wind scatters leaves across your lap
Falling apart before you
Leaving pieces all around
Just to fly away

Leaves of every color
Laying all around
Scattering the ground with color
Just for it to fade away

In the silence
Winter comes
Freezing the color
Into the ground
Fading away
Turning deep brown

Left with no color
The leaves die and decay
Then they are forgotten
Till they come again
With the clanging of the wind chimes
With the soft breeze
Once again next autumn

 
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