Fallen leaves sound yet silent,
Knowing they won’t return to the tree.
They cry with the whispering wind,
Calm as the rain sets them free.

Drifting down in golden sorrow,
Carried where the cold air leads.
Softly resting on the earth,
A quiet fate that no one heeds.

Seasons turn, and time will take them,
Blending into dust and air.
Yet for a moment, in their falling,
They dance, unbound and unaware.