leaves turn their most beautiful
at their most vulnerable of times
when there is little time and
even less left to give
but to light up the far horizon
with hues no paint can bring forth
giving it their all with abandon
no time left for decorum and order
and then once they have
brightened up the morning light,
filled in the evening shadows;
they let go
and fall to earth spent
with only their fragile selves to give
over to the rebirth of life in its time
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