how did you get here

How did you get here, little one? You are such a contrast to these dead leaves and sticks They are gray, tan, and ugly You are a misfit in the world of the unseen. You usually fit onto a rearview mirror of a car. I cannot see anyone wearing you as an eyepatch I doubt you fell off someone’s backpack. Wait a second, here is a thought. A persnickety camper who attaches an air freshener to his backpack? I smile at this absurd idea. Should I leave you here for others to discover? Or should I pick you up, risking my life, for you might be germy. Playing it safe, I take a photo and leave her there to delight other writers.