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  • Writer's picturePoetry Earthlings

Leaves of Autumn Writing Poetry - a Collection

No matter the trending Season in your part of the Earth, these Poems composed in appreciation and wise reflection, will prompt you to look out to Nature for a moment of bliss (you deserve it).


I am a leaf in the wind, floating about freely, unafraid and blissfully lost in the ecstasy of thought, suspended in air to dip and spin and swirl and twirl as if in the eye of a world awake— the cat with her mouse, the blades of grass splitting with snakes, the stretching flowers inviting in bees, acorns rolling away like coins from squirrels, streetlamps making shadows like artful graffiti on city buildings, a park bench holding yesterday’s newspaper, loud footsteps by sun glint, and quiet kisses by moonlight, a pond with my reflection— but there is the other side of me, the one where I am the trunk of a tree, suspended in place, dug in, buried in thought, holding up the weight of branches and nests— a song house for bluebirds to peck, a backdrop for lovers to undress and carve their names into me, a chopped-up playhouse of wood for children, a hunter’s hideout, a theatre for wildlife, a place picnicked with litter and a place to both cool and warm bones— though my bark is stoutly timbered and stoic, I wait for my rings of wrinkles to come like rain, sleepily looking up and wondering if the sky really is as vast as it looks, and dreaming of what it must be like to be a leaf in the wind, so unaware of fate.

Meet the Poet:

R.B. O’Brien is the founding member of The Nu Romantics and a multi-genre author best known for herromance novels, but poetry is her first love. O’Brien holds a degree in English literature and teaches for a living. Beyond that, she CREATES—every chance she gets. The Poem “Leaf in the Wind” is published in her latest poetry collection Snow Falls in Winter.

Larch In Autumn

The Larch is aflame

Ochre-gold needles held aloft

Dying in Autumn's fire.

A half-burning tree

Preternatural bridge between worlds

Larch lights up the wood

And garlands of dark cones

Tumble from their branches

Heavy with fertility.

Those golden branches made

To accentuate the sky

Dream of heaven

The draped adornments

Seeds beneath scales waiting

Dream of earth.

Larch, a sorcerer's soul

Holds the boundary between

Worlds in abeyance

Blurring the edges,

Of the definition of fire and fuel,

Of life and death.

Kate Seren

November 2022

Meet the Poet:

Kate lives in an old barn, on top of a hill, in the middle of nowhere, and spends her time writing about the beautiful world around her and inside her.

You can find more of her writings on

or her Instagram @looktothewild

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