Autumn
The temperatures have slowly cooled,
And there are pumpkins everywhere.
Above the ground there is a leaf
That clings and clings to all its green,
Unable to believe the end’s
At most a week from being here.
It wants to stay and touch the sun.
The rest of them are on the ground,
And kids are using them to play.
Now it’s the end of seven days,
And all the green has turned to brown,
But it, delusional, stays there,
Just drinking in the fading warmth.
But then the wind begins to blow.
The branches shake, and down it falls.
It dances briefly in the sky,
Before it comes to rest down there,
Forever on the silent ground.
Jon Bishop is an MFA candidate at the University of St. Thomas in Houston, where he studies poetry. His work has appeared in a variety of outlets, both print and online. He lives in New Hampshire.