I’m waiting for the leaves to change

I see it already

The shift from verdant to dry

Like a form of mange

It catches my eye

Those leaves are withering slowly yet holding steady

Like the human condition, like you and me

Wrinkles, sagging, graying

In the wind: crinkles, lagging, fraying

Fall is around the corner

Sort of like, death, no?

We and the leaves are mere sojourners

The sturdiest become like tissue paper

Rubbing together in a gift bag

Here now, but not later

They begin to sag

I also see them crack

They’re peeling away from their source

Is there any life on the ground

Fall’s coming, what a vicious divorce

I observe the leaves withering

But there’s a part of me that’s welcoming

For now, there’s green below

But will that dry out too

Or turn to snow

That tree, its leaves, are dying like you and me

All to be made new