Wednesday, April 17, 2013

April Seventeenth

The full
Beautiful oak
Had but one flaw.
A single and overall
It sat
Small and undefined
Among the large
Deeply colored
Full leaves.
They rustled together
In a soothing cacophony
Each time the wind blew.
Together they were louder,
But the small
Leaf was not heard.
As they had always seemed to
The leaves acted in unison.
All at once they started to change
And yellow.
As usual, the
Leaf remained away
So that by the time the other leaves
Were brilliant shades of orange and red, the
Leaf was just starting to
And yellow.
In small groups the leaves
Fell away from the tree,
Following each other unquestioningly
Into what none of them had ever known.
As per usual, the
Leaf stayed behind.
It watched.
And it waited.
It saw as all the other leaves it had known
Without ever really being a part of
Faded away.
It watched as some fell straight to the ground
Cold and unforgiving
Never making it beyond what had always been.
It watched as some leaves
Carried by a great wind
And maybe a little bit of something else
Were carried off
Headed towards no one knew what.
It watched as some twirled through the air
In complex patterns
Looking as if they would go somewhere
Before falling back to the edges
Of what had always been known. The
Leaf waited, and it waited.
It waited for something to happen.
It waited for a certainty that would never be known.
It waited until that
Leaf was the only one left on the tree.
The leaf waited and waited
Because it was afraid of what was unknown. That
Leaf did not want to
Waste away being
It did not want to fall
In its one chance to succeed.
And so the
Leaf waited some more to be
No longer.
One day a great breeze came,
The greatest the leaf,
Or the tree for that matter,
Had ever known.
In this breeze the
Leaf clung to the tree
With a surprising amount of tenacious strength.
It clung
Until it was nearly too late. The
Leaf hung on
Trying to decide what to do,
Until the chance to do it nearly passed.
Until finally,
The maybe not-so-
After all leaf
Just let go.

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