The Leaf
by Lani McKinney
I dangle from a gnarled branch
Thirteen feet above the ant hill
Busy with 1000 soldiers
Making sure their winter pantry
Has enough canned peaches
To make some bitter cold day sweet.
My shoulders burn a fiery orange
As if announcing my days are short
Was necessary.
I listen to the music
Of sweet children’s voices
Float up to me on an early fall breeze
Lilting “8, 9, 10… ready or nots”
Reminding me to stop and listen
With eyes closed
And notice important things.
I bury my pointy nose in the top
Of your head warmed
By the magic of an autumn sun
Taking a long draw of comfort from the smell of you
And then exhale with a tremble
Shivering a little when I
Feel the sky breathe on my neck
Before I make my calm, whirly-twirly, back and forth
Descent south.
NOTE: Inspired by my recent obsession with Ted Kooser poetry and by the news of a co-worker who just found out he has pancreatic cancer on Saturday and will likely not make it through the day today and by the change in seasons.
