the expectation to drink

Darkness sets in, yet colour is abound Set in leaves of red, yellow and brown. Look along the sunken path, observe the twisted season- This celebrated death Painted in joys of colour. Let’s trample on the decayed Or brush them away We can catch them as their leafy fingers slip; The wind will loosen What remains of their grip. The mannequin trees Surrounded by their year’s growth Their paper skinPeeled from their bones. The patches of autumn are Carried away on a sigh Or left to rot On the sterling pathSinking into the earth And then forgotten. They may only be engraved Into the frozen mudThe chilling hallmark of This season’s discarded jewels.