The breath of Autumn,
Sweeps across the metal.
Brittle and crackling,
Are cast across and up.
They arch like a breaking wave,
Crash and explode in sandy hues,
And descend like confetti.
They land on the emerald carpet,
Warm and spongy from mid-morning fire,
Burning billions of miles away,
Bearing down upon the individual weaves of jade on the terrain.