And sometimes I wonder
Why do people
Become Shutterbugs
When Autumn knocks at the door
And why do Painters
Go out into the woods
When the leaves gasp
Before they fall off
And why do Soloists
Travel the miles
To compose the music
While stepping over
Dead and dried up leaves
How do they manage to live
On the peak of ardor
When leaves fall down?
Is it spectacular
Seeing them fall?
Sometimes I wonder
Is death really supposed to be celebrated?
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