A dry brown leaf
falls slowly before
me. Motionless,
a submissive slave
to gravity.

has let go.
No longer clinging
from that
which it had grown.
It becomes one
with the trillions,
stepped on,
kicked, and
ground into ground.

Nothing special;
this dry brown leaf.
Except for a moment,
I noticed it.
Wafting one final
marvellous gesture.

When I fall to my knees
to inspect it,
I realize I’ve become
with it.

As I walk away,
I’m uncertain
if the leaf
came with me
or I’d left myself
with it.

Looking back, I realize,
just then,
I nearly stepped
into a pile of dog crap.

Then another leaf,
motionless, falls–
into all of it,
becoming one with
the trillions; in this
brown autumn ground.

Nothing special;
this wet brown log.
Except for a moment,
I noticed it
and hadn’t stepped into it.
And that, I’d challenge
Robert Frost,
made all the difference.

written on 10/05/2013 by: Matt Kane