Red Leaf

We only met when you were spent
When your fresh youth was gone,
When fragile veins hold tight your robe,
The bones you dress upon.

You only show your colours now
As Summer days grow old.
No longer velvet, rich and green,
Your frailty makes you bold.

On paper wings you twist and fly,
A red head past her prime.
Your edges curled forever now
A short life caught in time. 

Liz