The Raining of Leaves

When the wind blows
it rains
Not cold droplets
Not gray beads
It rains
colors
mighty leaves

When the wind blows
it rains
The skies are clear
The birds still fly
It rains
fire
burning near

When the wind blows
it rains
The roads are dry
The cars are dull
It rains
Autumn
rustle,
sigh.