The Last Red Heart

_{(Effect by DeepArtEffects)}

　The park breathes autumn's final sigh,
　A carpet spun of gold and brown,
　Where summer's vibrant hues now lie,
　Beneath a sky of faded renown.
　A single maple, fiery heart,
　Against the evergreens so deep,
　A vibrant burst, a work of art,
　Where shadowed secrets softly sleep.

Apartment blocks, a pale facade,
Look on with windows, blind and square,
Unmoved by nature's grand parade,
Of rustling leaves on chilly air.
Yet even stone cannot deny,
The subtle shift, the fading light,
As days grow short and shadows lie,
Draped long across the coming night.

　A sturdy trunk, a silent watch,
　Observes the seasons come and go,
　From tender bud to brittle notch,
　The ancient rhythm, soft and slow.
　The fallen leaves, a whispered tale,
　Of life completed, journey's end,
　Returning to the earth's exhale,
　Where new beginnings gently blend.

And in this space, this quiet scene,
Where time stands still, and breezes sigh,
A moment's peace, serene, between,
The fading year and winter's eye.
A promise sleeps in frozen ground,
Of verdant shoots and sunlit days,
When life's sweet song will yet resound,
And nature's beauty finds new ways.

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