AUTUMN LEAVES
Aunt Carolyn On My Mind

In April they sprout out of cold, dry branches
and flourish greenly for five months;
then it’s over, finished, end of the line, kaput.

Shy, fresh, verdant green of spring
assumes eternal, never-ending everything,
but of course it couldn’t, shouldn’t last.

Autumn is after all a very good time
for swan song, a final shout, outrageous
color flashed against cool blue sky.