Autumn leaves swathe the earth, discarded from trees above,
Remembering the mother oak, the lost embrace of love.
Their green innocence lost, as they began the fall.
All because of naivety, to a single flighty call.
They travelled the sky, on wind currents flew,
For one single moment, they simply knew.
Before reality snatched them from these games,
Wrenched them, from that brief moment of fame.
The wind pushed them to their knees, as they begged to fly,
But instead were left, to rot and die.
Their memory feeds the soil, false motivation to grow.
As is all, in nature's cruel flow.
• By Polly Smith (Year 8, Kavanagh College)
