Fall on the East Coast of the United States is a sensual feast, primarily brought to us by deciduous trees.

Fall

Leaves brighten Filling the spectrum
From startling gold, to
Flaming orange–
Clearly seeking attention–to
Fiery red, to
Sedate brown.

Rustling overhead,
Crunching underfoot,
Leaves, Pentecostal, speak with many flickering tongues.
Whispering wind
Sings through heavy boughs,
Soon bare and silent.

Leaves crushed and dispersed
Lie in wait to be plucked from their random resting places,
Impervious neither to sun nor rain,
Begin to decay.
Leaf mold scent,
Pungent and fragrant,
Rises with each step.

Memories of seasons past,
Years fallen out of time,
Are reborn from decay.