after another

A poem about the fall season.

One and
ONE
golden leaves
fall

and spiral slowly -
drift casually towards the earth.

Mix with swirls
of red and
RED -
a westward neighbor drops its glory too.

Bittersweet joy at such a sight
and a child rolls in the fallen perfection

not remembering
(as one mittenless hand reaches up towards
the crisp fruit of a sleepy giant)
that life was once green.

not caring
(for child can still see beauty without
understanding) even as it seems to die -
it's only in wait.