October
Outside my window leaves flattened to the earth
Torn from the trees by a western wind.
Blown to the ground,
they become a decoupage beneath my feet.
This leaf does not fret at the change
that has occurred in one year.
From bud, to lush green; a small piece of a soft green canopy.
It harbors birds and nestles bugs and shades me as I weed the
path beneath my feet.
And then, in a display that could make Rembrant change his colors,
It is released from its protecting job
To float freely to the ground.
It's job well done and in an instant but a memory.
No loss, no sadness,
a direct movement with purpose fulfilled.
That I could have a life so satisfied.
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