Leaves of Fall (orig written 11/8 & posted in 2 chronic pain forums)

I see the semi-naked trees about our community, their stature seems interesting yet ugly & stark to me. The leaves, having nurtured the trees now turn brilliant colors in their final days & tummult to the ground below. Sometimes they are carried off a bit by a gust of wind. I see them withered, dry, old & colors fading, veins dominant. The striking similarities between myself & the leaves of Fall are all too much to ignore. I can only hope that I will have been as purposeful in my life as the leaves were during theirs; hope that the sometimes stark tree I help sustain seems more interestingly staturesque & less ugly; that I too may become brilliantly colorful in my final days & be carried away from my world of pain by a gust of wind.