The Fallen Leaves

The fallen leaves looking at the heavenly sky and at my own doorstep they, in silence, sigh; they often criticize my feet as I pass them by. Day and night, they hang around, relentlessly and never know that they, actually, bother me from entering and leaving my place. My kitty cat does not like them too, ‘cos they do crackle as she tiptoes out, eagerly, to touch the sparkle of the afternoon sun. Ah, today I have to tackle the task of teaching them and myself. Luckily, these delicate hands of yesterday are totally free from the arid office, serving my boss with a tea that I gathered them and place them in a shelter of green, letting their last smile not just to loiter, but for them to use it, for Earth to have a better feel. Now, I see them not, yet they promised me that they’ll be back once they’ve seen the beauty, curved from their skin, of a blossoming cherry tree.