call it fall

When autumn falls, I like to call it fall. I like to call it fall cause all in all that's what it is. The leaves swim to the streets and stain them, paint them, until they're a muddy mush. Look up and see the trees naked, standing proud like mannequins. They may feel shy but they're managing. The sky is alive when it's a blue corpse and looks like death's arrival when it's shiny gray. If I'm in your way, I'll step aside. Just tell the lawn I said he looks good in orange.