taking a bow

Leaves change and wither away,

But for a few bright days,

They burn with color—

As if all year they waited for this.

Then one by one, they fall,

Taking a bow

To the performance they were born for.

When the frost comes to cover the fields,

And the trees stand bare again,

I’ll still go back to that autumn day,

When, for once in my life,

Everything felt right.

JKL