Leaves

A Poem by Maria Elise

I feel like a pile of dead, dry, leaves. I am the shedding of a tree that has gone to sleep for the winter and all that is left is the pile of pieces the tree did not need. My colors are gone and I am a single shade of brown. Children and dogs and people step on me in a passing and do not care that their boots crush my entire frame and that they are literally beating me into the ground I so desperately want to be a part of. I am no longer clinging to the tree, numb and barely alive because the wind has finally decided that I am not good enough to have a shred of life. This is it.

I remember falling from the tree and it felt like I was finally flying and going up. But in reality, I was only falling as the wind gave out and I hit the ground. Now I lay, ground up and pounded into the dirt, just waiting for my body to decompose. This is it.