Where do the leaves go?

They fall

They float to the ground

They break apart

gold

red

green

brown

Where does the time go?

I don’t know.

The rain

is my baptism

on a cold

windy

day, that looks like night

while the sun shines through

storm clouds

onto falling leaves

as they glow

in the dark

like lost souls,

carried by the wind

to a different place.