The first leaf Has fallen, and lies In colourful splendour On its own, in the pathway. Yet another season is upon us; So do the days go on Heedless of human need, or emotion. The Earth tilts away from the Sun. And then towards it. We are budding leaves, we spring forth In green. We show other colours. We then turn sere, and fall To be covered, and erased from memory By the first snow. We return to the earth whence we took shape And await another spring, to appear again.