Do the leaves know they’re admired anywhere they float?
Passionately adored by innocents in the fleeting Autumn glow.
Observed by strangers from separate altitudes, crunching underneath wandering feet.
And when they dance in spirals, “I’ll miss you,” speaks the trees.
And are you aware how loved you are?
Even when you can only muster a presence.
They see you shining in any season, so darling, please just let them.
