the autumn ache

pretty leaves upon the trees out swaying in the wind

paint a picture of a different life that once was lived

calmer and more colorful, they swayed in years of old

blowing, sweetly scented, crimson, jade, and marigold

the same trunks still stand outside, acing the test of time

with stillness comes wisdom and a sadness intertwined

with beauty comes a madness and a wild sense of claim

mortal arms open up worlds to our trees all the same

no matter how this life may look or how we ache inside

if simple colors of the world still blow our pupils wide

then all the color and the love long gone will not subside

not in this life, nor the next, nor ever when the human smiles