on a bare branch
in the dark of winter
clings a lonely,
bright colored leaf...

that vibrant yellow
or orange, or red
familiar in the autumn...

the leaf shudders
as the winds shake it,
pummel it...

it grasps onto life
with every bit
of the little strength left

it grasps onto life

somehow it knows
it is not time yet...

so it clings,
though everything
around has died,
bare and grey...

a man walks by
notices the leaf

he stops, stares...
a tear comes to his eye

he kneels and prays
and thanks God for his love

the leaf, having seen this
releases itself
from the branch,
gracefully falls to the ground

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