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