| Leaves The beauty of leaves is that they have the ability to change In the cooler cinnamon breezes they change from a soft healthy green To that of one brilliant shining sun—they welcome the glory of their destiny The color does not wallow in sadness as bare winter tree branches slowly grow deranged They rejoice as they come closer and become an orange sheen, That blinds all from intellectual disease, leading the leaves to darken to red scrutiny… |


