Lunge
Slide
Join

I lunge towards those red and gold--
The corpses of those leaves so old
As I lunge, my pink shoe peeks
Playing peek-a-boo with spiky green.

I slide and pull those sticky leaves
Off the mattress of spiky green
Crunching, crackling towards me
Still I glide ‘till a pile I see.

They join together; for I am told:
For as boy meets girl; red meets gold.
Swish-tish, swish-tish – ah, that sound!
Surely soon, will they all become one.