It’s Autumn when falling leaves
either saunter down or
circle with driving force.
Irrespective of their roots, or even
from whose yard they spent their summer,
they gather together.
Nearly indistinguishable from one another,
oak and ash wear charcoal coats of crunch,
lying among tarnished poplar leaves.
A multicolored leaf rests on top,
similar in size and shape, yet different,
the anomaly, standing out.
I finally understand why Mom always said,
“Don’t fall among the crowd;
Be confident; be yourself.”