Some leaves fall
Their weightlessness gives into gravity
And down they go.
There is no struggle.
There is only the act of giving in
Of letting go
And detaching from the branch
As the swan song of autumn plays.
Turning green to dead
Fails to grasp all life
Trembling in the wind
Frost covering its edges
Refusing to relinquish its hold
Sways silently, adamantly
Against the coming winter’s breath.