Autumn has come like a thief in the night
and stolen it all from me.
Today, I see the first faded brown possiblility fall to the earth
soon to be dry and crunching beneath my feet
as I walk among the leaves wondering—why? how?
It almost seemed like a dream
too sudden and too good and too gone
to be real.
How long will this season last?
Will the death and absence of all in the white
of winter come and go just as quickly,
so I can find the green in spring once again?
Or will the queen pick up the dead leaves of her splendor
and make herself a bed of dust to dwell in the
long, cold winter?
Oh come Spring! I want to dance again!