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.