Falling (another villanelle attempt)

[Brownlie]

It’s autumn, leaves are falling down to Earth
From branches slowly shedding organs meant
To catch the sun that dries a sodden birth.

In every day a morning dew with mirth
Like dawn will dry throughout with moistness spent.
It’s autumn, leaves are falling down to Earth.

Ephemeral, scenes will briefly blush a Dearth
Of dying color. Naked limbs are bent
To catch the sun that dries a sodden birth.

The wooden steps that sit before the church
Have leafy blankets from the descent.
It’s autumn, leaves are falling down to Earth.

The leaves that crunch beneath go through rebirth
and turn to dust again in their descent.
To catch the sun that dries a sodden birth.

As drying leaves that fell from trees the curse
Of fate will brittle bones when time is spent.
It’s autumn, leaves are falling down to Earth
To catch the sun that dries a sodden birth.