Leave, leaving, leaf.
This year I'm going to leave all the leaves in the park.
No more wandering about, dreamily clutching a full house
of elm and maple, taking them home
and spreading them on the windowsills
like national treasure, like proof this day existed,
proof that I made my choices
and endured them.
This year I'll leave them all in the park, every silken sliver.
Like a gambler piling all her chips on the table,
all my leaves are in the park:
My bet that there will be more autumns,
more leaves as glossy and irresistible,
and more days
crisp with longing.
9 comments:
beautiful.
Thanks, bun.
I actually wrote that last year, just before I decided to leave Holland. At the time, I couldn't even imagine where I'd be a year later.
How well this autumn is going (in Vermont, in love, and with more stunning fall foliage than I've ever seen in my life) is a confirmation that my bet was good.
Lovely.
Congratulations on Vermont, love and foliage.
Thank you, Simon. :)
This goes for me, too.
Except for horse chestnut.
I can't believe there will be autumn this year. We don't have it this close to the equator. I don't even take pictures anymore. Stuff happens, things change so fast. Optimism.
I too took leaves, acorns,feathers,mushrooms---you name it,I took it home and made collages, wall art, wreaths, and mobiles. (there is still one on my wall that I add new found feathers to every now and then. They remind me of the nature outside that I love.
Their real value is in their natural habitat, where fleetingly you can almost taste their beauty. It's true---there will be more next year. And in the meantime, next come the snowflakes, woodland wildflowers, field daisies, and then the leaves again next year.
It's also really nice to have someone you love to enjoy them with you.
Exquisite. As you are.
And it means something more, doesn't it?
I'm still pondering.
Brickgrrl - Yeah, I think it goes for time of life, not just time of year.
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