the year of lyrics: a poetry project

my search for inner-peace, one poem at a time

Day 189 – The Real Fall

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Do you ever wonder why they call it “Fall”?
And no, not because you’re an exhausted student
Dreading each Fall semester for fear that you may trip and
Fall, like the fallen leaves that give way to the branches’ sleeves
Who are so chilled by the
Crisp autumn air
And soon they don’t want leaves there
So the leaves?
They change colors like chameleons
Blending into shades of golden oranges and mustard yellows
Trying to hide from the trees observant eyes
Chuckling softly in their new found disguise
Leaves, so eager to stay
Grasping tight to the branches
For fear that they may be led astray
And their intuition is correct
For the seasons soon dissect
And Fall is not truly that kind
For it has harsher intentions held in mind
Or perhaps, Fall is not as cruel as we would assume
Rather, he prepares us for the freeze that awaits us
For this is Fall’s method to sedate us
Mesmerizing with a kaleidascope of significant meaning
Fall prepares us for our anticipated Winter meeting


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