While Sweeping Leaves

Leaves

The leaves pile up in clusters,
and after a while their size
becomes impressive
and strong.

Together, they have the power
to rot the boards on which they rest.
Or to keep plants alive through the winter.

As I sweep them across the deck,
they cling to each other tightly
forming what sure feels like a boulder
to my weary arms.

Occasionally a wind comes along
whispering in the opposite direction
we’re going, the leaves and I,
and I notice that it’s only the
leaves who aren’t connected to other leaves,
the ones who aren’t committed
that blow backwards from whence they came.

3 Comments

  1. little light

    I love this…I am the leaf clinging to the tree… ~grin~

  2. cathie

    Can’t find your e-mail address on your blog.
    Send it to me – would you?

Pull up a chair why don't you, and let's talk . . .

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