October Chills

Never did I see death so pretty,
Than in the shades of brimming yellow and austere red,
Not in sickly countenance,
Nor the shedding of health,
Not in sallow greys or illness colours,
But wonder in the shades of orange mosaic,
Never had such a death been so pretty,
Swaying sweetly, supplely, in such harmony,
Rendering our breath caught and quiet,
Our thoughts flummoxed,
The pyramid of sense, 
turned over and spinning
in outer orbs of the surreal,
Grey shades and glitter,
Dawning light breaking 
through shell of the sky,
Earthen smell of things dying,
but of nature and smell so sweet,
Earth renewing in death, 
Misty atmospheres, 
October smells and chills,
The still undercurrent
rubbing the belly of the leaves,
In the trees gossiping whispers,
But in comfort sweetly so
And the healthy green 
not dare to boast against
its aged beauty friends,
The trends of its colours
in chameleon mirage, 
The golden flakes
and ruby gems speckled,
Clouds fluttered
in grey tears
like weepy tissue paper,
Translucent in the crowning glorious bright brow,
The beating heart light,
Breathing through the crisp autumn sky,
Never has death been so pretty,
As when autumn leaves fly.