A Cold Still Night

On a still, cold night
When the moon is full,
The light it puts on everything...
The first thing I noticed,
The fallen leaves.
They look like bright paint spatters.
Some heavenly disaster.
Some remodeling up there,
That took a spill.
It's a beautiful accident.
It's like...
They're gray. The spatters.
The fallen leaves.
They're gray,
And I don't know how they do it...
But they contain colors.
They keep them all,
And they don't let them go,
But they're aware.
And just prideful enough to let you know
That they're there.
The beauty underneath
Must be more than I could stand.