Autumn's Butterflies

Autumn's Butterflies

The butterflies of Autumn
Had been perching in the trees,
The freezing air of night time
Had sent them to their death,
Lives extinguished by frosty air
That lets you see your breath.

One by one they lost their grip
And tumbled in the breeze,
Fluttering and twirling slowly,
Hesitant to reach the ground.
Crashing to the earth silently;
Wind was the only sound.

I stood among them pondering,
In a heap up to my knees.
A rake in hand to gather them
And stack them in a pile.
Thinking of how I'd set them afire,
In just a little while.

I got a match, set them ablaze,
The fire started with ease.
As pungent aroma filled my nose;
The tapestry that memory weaves
Told me they weren't butterflies,
They were simply Autumn leaves.