Leaves

swinging on a branch

the energy of a child

fills my veins

a great time to be a leaf.

up and down

fluttering in the breeze

admiring my shape, my brownness

in the mirror of a sky,

proud to be free

and proud to be brown.

lying on the ground,

one of many just like me

as children giggle,

jumping into the pile one by one,

crumbs, red dust

mingling with the soil,

no longer a leaf

just a memory.