The autumn leaves have a fervent incense
Their fading melanin softened by the purple rain
I wonder how this marathon of fluorescent dissipation guides this despotic transition
Do we not care that the trees shudder, that the plants quiver?
That the wind is only an ally that flutters the spectacle grandeur of spring
How sad it must be to shed their beauty even at the promise of restoration
For they must still beg the bees, the butterflies and the rain
For their roots only give benediction to the omnipresence that is bequeathed from the sky
The gratitude of the resolute sacrifice of fortitude is rewarded with the bloom that promises fortune.
Nkateko Tshabalala is a self-published author of Poetic Flair. Full bio at poetryportion.com.