Falling Down

Leaves are falling all around,
a tempest of foliage swirling about,
raining soft and crisp against the cool, damp earth;

the dying time has come again,
as trees finally shed their green
for festive rich reds, oranges, yellows.

All goes to sleep,
to hold back the rampant growth of earlier times
and hotter climes and fruiting as vegetation primes

for the coming deep cold chill
the frosts and freezes hinted at
on the breeze which causes us to wrap tighter

scarves and sweaters and coats,
while the occasionally emerging sun
sometimes encourages outstretching

(why is this tree budding leaves,
does it not know what is coming?
winter is coming).

I am caught up in a rainbow maelstrom
of dried, dead, dying leaves,
pouring down from the canopy above.