A somber mood in autumn’s gown,
The fallen leaf by old roadside,
Crinkly clad in nature’s brown,
A cycle complete as amber tones abide.
The rhythm is a cycle complete,
All is present in the passing,
Reflections of an archetypal beat,
No cause to think of any trespassing.
For each leaf has its place,
Nature’s cycle is complete,
A design of both chance and grace,
Aesthetics gained is no small feat.
And, shows a form, an implicit design,
Crumpled rustling in its chatter,
No doppelganger could this refine,
Just let the rain fall and scatter.
Francis Conlon is a retired and recovering teacher. For the past 20 years, he has worked as a seasonal river ranger and boat inspector at Yampa River State Park in northwest Colorado. He has published in the local Valley Voice and in Westward Quarterly. He currently lives in Salt Lake City, Utah.