Traveling through the woods,
I count one,
I count ten,
I count thousands,
they are the same, yet
they all are different.

Like an artist who
spends a year crafting
a masterpiece of colorful imagery
the picture is gone too soon
all to be carpeted back to earth.

Proud as they are
they will soon come back
in hue, no hue or varied hues
and yet looking mighty and pretty.

Happy as we are
there is always something new to
shed your inhibitions and make anew, and
become your new you;
hue or no hue
It will still be pretty.