Leaves

First there was one, just one. And then another. Then, suddenly, one after another after another after another. Lying on the sidewalk beneath my pounding feet. Each leaf cast down to the sidewalk, fragile, but strong enough to fall without breaking. Instead, they curl. One side is a brilliant red, startling in its beauty, and the other a muted tan. The backbone of the leaf. It folds in to protect the beautiful side when the leaf tumbles to the ground. The more brittle the leaf grows, the tighter it curls. Trying harder every minute to preserve and protect what is most precious. But it will fail. Even the most glorious colors in the leaf will fade and crumble. Soon, it will be dust, returning to the ground from which it first arose. Despite the leaf's best and most heroic efforts, it cannot save itself. All that is beautiful about it will wither and blow away, nothing, a scent. But I will breathe it in and remember the beauty. And I will trust in the coming of spring.