A Book of Leaves

I've gathered up some leaves
with colors of the sun
and pressed them in a book
on pages one by one...

On parchment made of white
the leaves are fringed with green,
and crimson splashed on veins
like sunset in a dream.

The leaves are dappled gray
upon these pages bound
Once vibrant, breathing life,
before they hit the ground...

And Yellow leaves abound
like footnotes for my soul,
once shade on summer days
for the young and for the old...

And in this, my book of leaves,
I've sadly tried in vain
to capture what is gone
what Time won't let remain...

The borders ebb and flow
from these Autumn souvenirs---
One day they will remain
When I'm no longer here...

Sharon Frye