Endings are beginnings too

Leaves turn peeling off bare branches to saunter towards the ground. Floating magically, fluttering silently without making any sound. One twirls whimsically up and down spiraling all around.  The chasm crossed from the homestead tree to the floor where it's bound. Heaps of emulsified leaf corpses pile below into a mound. The tree, the tree is left bare and naked, unbridledly and degowned.   The ending of a seasoned year fumbles towards a simple frown. Endings are beginnings too and what is lost will once be found.