Last Leaf

They’re mostly bare now, stripped of all foliage. Another years work almost done. Now a time for standing firm against the driving wind.

Drifts of brown in the distant wood where Beech and Birch leaves cling stubbornly to their host. Rain rolls across the landscape like wild autumn mid air waves. A fine mist forms as it bounces off the grass.

We sit and wait a while, my faithful blind friend. She’s patient, so much more than me. The rain beats against the car. This is her favourite place to walk. In time the rain abates, we walk.

All about are the listless, lifeless last leaves of autumn. Hanging by a gossamer thread. The trees need to pause and rest while our earth tilts, then tilts back. Soon there will be just black against grey. For now though this Maples brilliant hues brighten an early December sky.

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