There’s something so coincidental about fall being my most cherished season.
Oh fall, showing the world how beautiful it is to let dead things go.
Leaves falling everywhere, I’m falling right along with them.
Crunching under everyone's shoes, people are walking all over them.
And you people are always walking all over me.
The difference between myself and the leaves is they only get walked all over during the fall.
But the fall, oh the fall, is so dear to my heart.
I sit out on my rocking chair and watch you fall, but you aren’t alone, oh no dear, you are not alone.
I fall right along with you.
You fall so peacefully to the ground, and for a moment I am envious of the leaves falling.
They fall with such grace.
I slam to the ground and there is nothing peaceful of it.
And as people rake and dispose of the inconvenient leaves from their lawn, people are raking at my characteristics of my own self that is inconvenient for them.
For I am not spring or the beautiful flowers that blossom, I am not summer or the sunshine that warms your soul, for at times I am winter as cold as ice but not beautiful or perfected like a snowflake falling at dawn, for I am fall; I crumble and I fall and I will continue to fall until my final season is done.