A dead leaf dances in the wind
Outside my window, caught in a web
I think; Before this, I was sitting atop a wet swing set
Zoning out on the harvest moon
Water-logged-leaves-from-trees,
Fall from my cold bare feet
And before that, I walked amongst:
Broken Logs, falling leaves, and dieing trees
I sat and meditated on everything around me
The sun went down and lit the clouds bright with autumn
In the company of deer, I marveled at this:
Everything’s wet, dead, and beautiful

Stuck on getting high during a season that's all about the fall.
Yellow. Orange. Red.
It's only mellow because it's dieing, or already dead.
Yellow. Orange. Red.
I'm the shifting shades of autumn trees.
I'm the sound of breaking leaves.
Yellow. Orange. Red.
This is when everything is at it's most beautiful; lying on it's deathbed.

beautiful. there were some things i disliked, but all in all, u made your ideas known in a very deep way. the last lines of both poems sum up the two pieces very well.

I really enjoyed the second poem. Specifically, these lines:

I'm the shifting shades of autumn trees.
I'm the sound of breaking leaves.

It just works for me.