Leaves -- Audio Recording
She left
Not because she's moderately politically right and I'm profoundly left
But because I didn't sweep the leaves from the front porch
And left a brand new gallon of milk out spoiling (The second time this week!)
My memories of us are wilting like the leaves of a wintering oak
Leaving riots of red and yellow leaves until the tree has nothing left
I frantically fill the leafs of a book with remnants of the leaves
Plucked methodically from wiry branch until arms heavy of memories leaving by wind
Memories still crunchy underfoot like the swirling leaves of August
Her leaving left me leafing through the leaflets proclaiming our marriage
I think back to a simple time, a childhood memory, making wax leaves
Melted crayons and a leaf from a tree, I used too many colors
Mixed together to leave a fermented brown color with flecks of red and orange
"We'll leave that one out" said teacher, pointing to mine
But like my marriage I was contented that the wax leaf left was so close to real.
Hardworking brown of a life lived gently and a few sparkles of color left
Showing the leaf left behind tells a story of leaving its legacy fulfilled
To nourish the tree, at least that's what the leaflets on leaves tell me.
But leafing through the pages, both paper leaves and digital bitleaf
I've left one leaf blank, still clinging to the tree in the cold winter months
Long after the leaves are raked, mulched, and left in a hotbox
The leaf left un-spent and leaving the leaves of the collection of leaflets un-finished
Is the one where I take my leave; and say
Goodbye