I free you
last leaf battered by
wind
lashed by rain
dried by sun,
dappled with mold,
perforated by insects,
refusing to let go of
the colorful camaraderie
of yesterdays.
I free you
to drift haphazardly
into dark terrain,
destined to be trampled,
broken, torn,
like others.
Last leaf holding,
you sizzle in the wind
singing solo,
crying for a glance,
a reflection.
I free you
to the bed of
commonality,
even harder to discern,
even harder to be picked
and pressed into a book of yesterdays.
Tracy
Ahrens of Kankakee, Illinois has been a journalist and editor for 17 years.
She is also a writer for Chicago-area and national magazines, an author of two
children’s books and one non-fiction text, an artist and poet. She has won over
40 journalism-writing awards statewide, locally and nationally. See http://www.tracyahrens.weebly.com.