Fall PoemIt falls like a hand over your mouth, Autumn’s hush of colors. The false blossoming of gold into lush orange into faded yellow into brown into dirt. Fate falls upon leaves with the clinging of first frost followed with the finality of Winter’s deepest freeze. The air is choked with their fluttering and falling, this burgeoning of hollow fortune. The crushing as you walk– the ground littered with the wealth of fallen things.