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