Once green, the tarnished carcass rests upon the fertile soil… withered veins wrinkle this aging but glorious image… graceful with flight.
It is an image of life, which has reached the final stage… the fading stage… like a ritard at the end of a lullaby. It sleeps with the harmony of nature serving as its burial ground.
It lies crumpled… with its transformation from birth a mere memory.
The gentle breeze now lifts the leaf, its fragmented body, as a spirit floating in the air… it lingers in life, the dynamics of life with vigor… a moment of glory… freedom… then it falls back to its roots… it falls in the Fall… and lies in await for another moment of glory in the breath of the breeze.
(I wrote this poem in 1990 regarding the cycle of life.)