Lone Leaf

Sometimes a “fallen feuille” is a timely reminder. A lone leaf brave in its sensuous strength and solitude. Pretty apart. The ache and isolation of individuality. The irresistible siren call of winter…

Lone Leaf 

Once sylvan whisper,
once breezy dancer
free, fallen, silent,
so solitary,
a long way from the
canopy’s embrace,
damp and delicate
on rain ambered deck.

Thanks, Pam, for accidentally documenting this mesmerizing moment when you updated me about the garapa decking on our master bedroom balcony. An inadvertent piece of poetry, found art, liberated by the plunging temperature, the wintery wind, the rainy sleet, the snapshot accidentally capturing more than the voids between boards, the gapping we were discussing,… Thank you.