You can see slightly
through the discolored leaves
That so lazily blow
With the wind
Flowing slowly behind  
Encouraging them to break
Supporting them to make
The sound that they do.
I wonder if you hear it too
From far faraway hidden to most.
The sound that they have given
Echoes past where is safe,
Past where is hidden.
And a girl with curls
Falling down her back
And eyes wide open
Hears the rustling once again
One that she’s swore she’s
Heard sometime before
It’s a quiet continuous rumble
A soft and welcoming mumble.
I appreciate the brief glance
Into the other side that
I was allowed
Though rarely thanked
In the out loud.
A whisper signals an ending.
Bring forth a closure of sorts.
I resolve to bid farewell
To my place amongst this wonder.