Fall Times

Colorful autumn leaves
Serenade the late summer forest
As the clocks begin to run
On fall time

The trees are covered
With strange yellow leaves
Is it gold or is it rot?
I look at the trees as they die a second time,
What is it that I want
Would I rather live for centuries and die every year
Or live a human life with no idea what to do
Who will I be today?
An astronaut or a musician
A biologist or a mathematician

Only during this fall time, wandering through the trees
Do I find myself so lost without landmarks and guiding stars
It is the gatway to death,
But filled with beauty.
As I stare over forest treetops I can not breathe.
When this is all over and tommorrow is winter
What is it that I want

It is always during these fall times that I wonder
What is it that I want
What would I do just to see the summer sun
For just another moment longer

Poem and photography by Hazel J. Hall
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