The leaf comes and goes,
falling through air in a spiral.
It doesn't hit the ground,
but is gently cushioned
by its shadow.
If left to its own devices,
it will decompose
and then regenerate.
If left to our rakes and leaf blowers,
it will be taken from its cycle
and be forced to another,
perhaps less natural, destiny.
The leaf is an old timer,
knowing full well its impermanence.
Still, it basks in the sun until evening.
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