Autumn’s fiery face
shifts and ripples across the woods,
catching and snagging
the lips of Summer
in a blushing kiss.

A tiny patch of red leaves among the green,
scorching and kindling
A rhodochromatic fire.

It starts softly,
Then rages across the land,
Not destroying but creating.

Dropping the leaves quietly on the ground,
Nests for beetles and fungi,
Worms and larvae,
Breaking them down for compost
To feed new life.

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© 2021, Yvonne Aburrow

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