Changes
One by one they change
And they fall to the ground
All we ever hear of them
Is a slight rustling sound.
We think they aren’t important
That they’ll reappear
But I have a question.
Do they know fear?
For they lay so silently
But they see all that goes on.
From the darkest night
Through the pale rays of dawn.
And leaves are like pages
Of our lives, slipping away,
And someday our tree of life
Will have no more one day.
So treasure all the leaves,
For each moment is sacred
Is what I believe.
Alica Hall