Leaves After Autumn

by Carol Edwards

Falling leaves place themselves without order,
their colours bleeding into each other.

Their edges curl and shapes change
until a weathered look emerges.

Then with crisp, scattered sounds on windy days
some get swept up by broom rage
or machines that suck them into fragments.

Some are collected and pressed in books
between soft, undamaged tissue
or carefully placed in wooden presses

To bring out in a mood of wonder
Their miracle within another season.