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