Leaves fell to the ground that day

I could not see them hiding where they'd land

Beneath a fog, who was awake and waiting to scurry that trail

Behind me, to disguise my own toes from the air

I could feel them slide between the concrete and soles 

The tearing of tired skin from a brittle bone 

But I could not hear the crunch of their fingers

The trees were too loud with their shrieking and mourning

Having lost what they'd grown from sweet buds

Even knowing before their leaves spun into gravel 

That a racket could never save the end to it all 

They were always destined to fall that way