The first leaf
is let away
from the motherly grasp
of its tree's branches.
It twirls down
the veins and the webbed leaf between them
fighting
gravity
making it spin
dip
fly
this way
that way
uh oh
wrong way.
Eventually
it will fall
touching down
point first
toppling onto one side
a little dish
of red-orange-yellow
almost brown
crispness.
The hiking boots will come
tromping
through the woods
contradicting
the leaves' graceful dance
the boots
may step
down
in just the wrong spot
and the leaf
may split
crack
crumble.
Another will fall in its
place
soon enough.
Posted in response to the challenge Autumn '24: Writing.
Comments
Log in or register to post comments.