Typical of maple leaves
They float in the air
Balmy air
Silky, unfair
Gruesome on the mind
Still so bland on skin
It’s color is saffron or probably orange
It could be coral or maybe yellow
It’s none of the ones I mentioned
It not transparent I can tell
That’s all
It is so untrue to me and to itself it is ambiguous
The maples sway
But they do not identify
They know not what it means to be driven
Yet they are driven
Yet they don’t know where
They are foolish
Only that is what they know
A tap on their chins
To show them what they must
And oh so sturdy
That one cannot prevent them from the fall


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