The Leaf

The leaf's travels were as quiet as a whisper

Her descent, gentle and soothing,

Just as she had been in life.

Vibrant colors now brown,

Wrinkled beyond recognition.

As the flesh slowly blew away

What remained were the lines of her life.

Intricate, delicate, unruly, and yet in a pattern

That tells the oldest stories in the world.

-mh (c) 2015