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The Leaf that Falls Upon Me

The leaf from the tree that falls upon me, I cling to.
No longer is it bright and green as it once was, yet I still cradle it as if it were a piece of my flesh.
As the wind blows, it crumbles and withers away in the cup of my hands.
And I am left with nothing.
Nothing
as the cold winter dawn falls upon me.

Brady Smith
10/20/97