As the leaf whirls across
the the mercurial landscape
The wind sounding like
something injured.
Don’t chase it. Let it go.
The monochrome sky
knows lost comes
with each season’s transformation
None of us spared in the end
Why fret so?
Put on your wool coat
wander in the leaves that refuse
to vacate the ground
Make this a day best remembered not
for what has gone but for
what remains

-Tosha Woody