Harken to the winds

Its whispers to the trees

Leaves rustle in acknowledgement

Some caught in the breeze.

These frail autumn dresses

Crumpled in despair

They are lost to everything

Forced to land anywhere.

So caught up in the bustle

In the scurries of the day,

They know not where they've been

Or where they'll blow away,

And when the succumb to the frost,

And crumble under our feet,

They die never knowing why

Life is not an easy street.