The leaves on its arms dance as the wind blows./ Some survive the breeze but ohters do not./ Looking at each other like they were foes,/ The ones that were left were thankful a lot.// As the season goes by, they start to change./ All kinds of colors, shapes, and sizes./ They watch the colors of them rearange./ Wow, how many people it mezmorizes.// The beauty of a tree is beyond me./ Start to finish, it ceases to amaze./ Branches, leaves, and trunk help create the tree./ They help make this object which makes us gaze.// At the end of its life, the tree falls down./ Never to be seen again, we put a frown.//