Consider the fallen leaf--
how it lies on the ground. Consider.

Torn from the mother branch,
dry and wrinkled, twisted and turned--
lifeless,
so we say...

Consider the fallen leaf.

I held one of them today.
Cold, it clung to my hand
seeking warmth, or a friend,
perhaps.

I tried to reshape, remake it...
but my terse hands
couldn't cuddle such a fragile thing,
and it crumbled,
on one fold of my ragged hand.

and it flew away
like sacred, golden dust ...

But one remained on my palm:
a reminder,
perhaps,
that we always leave something behind...
a smile
a sparkle
a sigh.

Consider--
the fallen
leaf.