When the last leaf of autumn
falls, a quieter, more peaceful
season takes hold,
begone the fiery foliage
and blustery winds,
begin the stillness
and the cold.

Though somber seems
the naked oak
as it sits lonely
on the hill,
in truth it rests,
as all things must,
to weather winter’s chill.

There is a freedom
in the lull
when all the world
is fast asleep,
as silence
needs no vigilance,
one’s mind
breathes long
and deep.

Without this yearly time
to rest,
we could not
carry on,
so autumn hearts
await the day
the last red leaf
is gone.
       Author: J. Anton Davis

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