Maple Leaf
You were just a bud in that lonely spring, clinging to the branches like a zebra muscle. As the days progressed, I sweat, and you flexed your herbaceous fingers. Outward, onward, upward you went, smart little thing you are, blowing carelessly in the breeze. Then the temperature fell, and life was not so accomodating for you anymore. I forgot that you even existed. Maybe I took you for granted, in amongst so many of your own kind.
Yesterday, I found you lying on the ground, dead.
But you looked so pretty.
10 Comments:
beautiful, burnished prose. i feel like autumn.
A beautiful piece.
yeah, but as far as hockey teams go, just not an intimidating name...
transience -I feel like autumn too, but I could never actually be it.
snavylyn -thanks
exile -Agreed. Who ever heard of getting beaten with a nine-iron, wedgied, curb-smilied and mugged by a pack of leaves? Not I.
I love autumn and the colourful leaves. I love how the leaves explode into colour before dying. the smell of fresh fallen leaves in an October rain is wonderful. okay, now I'm waiting for winter. :)
A powerful and sensual tribute to autumn indeed.
that's beautiful
cat & sapphire xx
If only people smelled nice and looked pretty after they died. I mustn't be the only person who ever had that thought - ??
exile deserves to be beaten for that comment.....the LEAFS ARE KICK ASS....so then....love coloured maple leaves on the ground, love autumn....so beautiful.....the escarpment is so nice around now...go see Milton the city it's beautiful and sort of west...well west of me. cheers ;)
ahhhh, this is so sweet :) i love it!
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