The little leaf

Every day

At a 3

I would walk home

Taking the same path

In fall I would admire

The trees and colors

One evening I saw a tree

With one little leaf

It was bright red

Standing out against

The dark bark

Every day I would look

It still hung on

On night

There was a storm

Swirling

Pounding

Whooshing

Around the little leaf

But it still hung on

It started to crinkle

And fold up against itself

The first snow came

It turned brown

Sagged with the wait

Of the snow

You could tell

It was longing to fall

And be with it's friends

On December 28th

The little leaf

Hung on no more