The Auburn Leaves
The waters used to shimmer in the summer breeze
Flowing with it blissful memories
Dripping popsicles and lemonade
Freedom and Fourth of July Parades
Today the wind is a paint brush
Trailing behind it warm colors
Golds, and browns, and oranges all mixed together
The crisp cool air flows through my lungs
How I wish it could stay there forever
Soft whispers of changes through time
Through the falling leaves— they each tell a story
Every year, the cycles continues —hundreds of years
Thousands of stories of love and fear
Just take a moment to hear the voice of the auburn leaves
The time that always changes; with it goes the leaves
The sun begins to set at evening time,
Shining a golden light
on all the sea of yellow in sight
And as the moon begins to rise
I think of all the summer smiles
As the sun does surely rise—
Fewer leaves are left behind
Colors will be bare
Across everywhere
And winter will soon rush in
Olivia Lipson ’25, Creative Writing Editor
25olipson@montroseschool.org