The Last Leaf Of Autumn.

Into the garden I go once more,

Just one more effort to tidy the leaves.

The tree has been standing there,

In all its glory, throughout the year.

The brilliance of green throughout Summer;

The birds hiding behind the leaves,

Not showing themselves,

But singing through the day

And into those long warm evenings.

And I, just sitting and listening to them;

Hearing Nature’s symphony.

The slow change to orange and red

Painted by Autumn’s brush;

An artist whose work has no bounds.

So many colours on her palette,

Creating imagery unbounded

By any restrictive thought;

Showing Nature’s tapestry.

As Winter draws nigh

The leaves start to fall,

Leaving gaps through which

The birds can at last be seen.

The chill on the air darkens the colours

As the leaves float to the ground;

Leaving Nature’s starkness.

The leaves now cleared,

The garden now tidied

I go indoors, a job well done.

I look up at the tree

Now bare and waiting for Spring,

But there in all its glory, at the top of the tree,

Shines the last leaf of Autumn.