Orange

By: Brianna Lee Hubler

Copyright © 2023 Brianna Lee Hubler. All rights reserved.

The color of decay
Is not grey,
As mold or dust,
For neither rust,
As autumn’s beast bellows,
And from its maw, rainfall flows

Here in the dense, green forest,
Where trees shake with dread—
Caught in flames, nearly dead—
These autumn rains
Drown the fires of summer,
As drummers among nature’s choir,

Though summer fires,
As equal destroyers,
Bear the same banner
As autumn’s beast,
Who gnaws steel and iron
And crushes greenery underfoot.

For when orange passes,
The leaves change.