Soon, the mind goes

these crisp green leaves will curl
synapses more tangles than avenues
as the many layers close in to survive
the infantry will kneel; yellowed, red
never to be what they aren't.
temporary, as
starbursts born so gentle in their morning
reaching for the borrowed sky
only to sacrifice each breath
for the branch below
some say you are nothing but rungs for rings
never appreciated until counted
taxed and compared
I say you are the bender that doesn't break
the wind's rush and coo;
the symphony in the forest
guides your pace
the courage in the fall
reminding you to move
while you can.