Leaves

Change; the inevitable inconsistency of life.
The air is much cooler on my skin then I remember it ever being.
Leaves chase after me as I try to slow the wind for them.
They wrap around my ankles and hide between my hair.
In search of some sort of solitude, I assume.
The difference between the two of us, is no difference at all.
I too, crunch under pressure, and finding cracks in anything to quietly blend into.
I fall, and sometimes get picked up by what I can only describe as natures specter of ingenuity.
I fall, and sometimes don't get picked up at all.
My colors change too, just like theirs do.
Always being exactly myself, in turn being too many different things.
There is the bright, vivid ones, blurring the lines in your 20/10 eyes from the path that's right before you.
The ones laced with dark, rich colors contrasting between the soft fading of another.
We are all too many different things.
The difference of which, is no difference at all.