literature

Leaves and Leaving

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projectilewordvomit's avatar
Published:
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Literature Text

Turning leaves remind me that some people change along with the seasons.

Leaf. Leaves. Leaving.

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Hush. If you listen real close, you can hear leaves laughing as they let go of the twigs that adore them. They flutter quietly to the ground, their graceful suicides silent to everyone except their beloved branches.

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Look, the world is orange and jagged and rusted. It is decadence and leaves and leaving. It is home, it is heaven, and it is hell.

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One by one, the trees ignite themselves and we watch their soundless self-destruction unfold. Whole forests seem to go up in flames without smoke. Sometimes we take pictures.

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We are only left with black and brown skeletons that patiently wait to be buried under white.

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I spend my entire autumn watching things die.
And the branches say: "Please don't LEAF me." BWAHAHAH. jk.

Nature contest entry for :iconcalling-all-poetry:
© 2010 - 2024 projectilewordvomit
Comments48
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nostrovia-poetry's avatar
A beautiful poem. Cheers!