The early sun's rays dance on my
window sill
Telling of dreams long forgotten.

The cardinal's song carries in the
wind
A whisper in the ears of the tall oak.

The leaves fall, turning into a spiral
of oranges and reds

Reaching the ground, its destination.

But alast! The leaves shift into the
early-morning breeze,

Dancing once again.

For its final destination is unknown,
and never what was expected.


-Shanta Ann