Deciduous Leaves Poem by Albert Ahearn

The xylem saps are heading south
like the majestic autumn sun,
deep down into their woody roots.
Soon deciduous leaves will die
and their exquisite lingering
dissolutions will manifest
tinctured, ephemeral beauty:
crimsons, oranges, yellows and greens
and all the subtle hues in between.
A sweet, earthy scent saturates
the cool, autumnal air we breathe.
Then one by one each leaf succumbs
to a gentle rain or zephyr
descending silently to earth.