Dancing Leaves

Threaded through a forest of leaves,
One stands among them.
Silken stem holding tightly to a wooden branch,
Against the thrashing wind.
Spring departs,
Summer fades,
Autumn begins.
Colors change from green,
To red,
To gold,
Becoming more beautiful as time goes on.
Brilliant colors meet the eye
Never wanting to lose such a sight.
Yet one
After one,
The leaves do fall
As the winter hands approach;
Preparing for the fingers of spring
To weave through a forest of leaves,
once again.