More on a leaf- 101

A display of warmth and blush would once make its way down the tree.



Gracefully it left, like a final bow at the end of a play; so frail, yet, quite tender to the eyes of the admiring audience.



Mornings pass dressed in suites and ties, carrying a briefcase of winter clouds.



Mucky leaves now slop their way around, hitching a ride on the nearest boot or swift ambulance.



Still, some stay close to home; never gliding too far past its trunk.



They watch lovely arms that once held them tight.



Rest and sway... a mother rocking her empty cradle







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