only leaves

Standing on my back porch
listening to the rain,
only there is no rain falling,
not a cloud in the sky.

Only leaves.

Falling, tumbling, slicing through the air
with the grace of a ballerina.
The rustling sounds echo in my ears,
the sound of rain, which isn't rain.

Only leaves.

Red and orange and yellow and brown
falling down to the ground
to nestle with dozens, hundreds,
thousands of their kind.

Only leaves.

Blanketing the grass
and dirt and weeds and mulch,
waiting for the winter ice and snow.

Only leaves.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s