Autumn Sonnet

Hushed into a leafy tomfoolery multi-coloured larva paths change in course swirl in exaggerated bright beauty they intrude with the commotion of a warhorse. About to charge on the field of battle pincer squeezed, they explore open valleys with no notion of their slaughter, austral they-must-amble conditioned by travel. It's necessary; their expense should fall. Once they've unattached all their greenery mulched alongside the cemetery wall. Love contains them for a while in bounty. Who could be annoyed by their golden lustre? Burning; falling in-their-splendour, amber.