THEIR SILENT STORIES

Tis the season
when the leaves underfoot
so recently fallen
speak to me
their silent stories.

They tell me tales of abandonment
and loneliness
and the genocide of the gardener
with his apocalyptic rake and fire.
They chronicle their tragic terminus.

The leaves on the road
ending their cycle of life
talk of their return to nature
ground back into earth.
They sing to me
quietly
but still
ask me not to crunch down on them
quite so hard.