Fall blows in like a cold breeze
Sends shivers down my spine,
Makes me weak in the knees.
I want to jump into every pile of leaves
Throw them up and set the sky on fire.

For once I am not scared
To watch the world die.
If for just this moment
I saw its true colors.

Yellow. Red. Orange.
Green. Sometimes Brown.
Vibrant and dying,
Spewing colors into sky
As if its dying breath
Was an exhale of self -
Releasing all that is not necessary
Right here, right now.

I'm starting to believe that there are reasons for the seasons.
Bone-chilling nights where my breath turns to ice,
Warm summer sun and spotless skies.

If fall is the season where eveything dies,
Why do I feel so alive?