Fallen Leaves

Leaves glint in the fallen snow,
remnants of past autumn,
and you gather them
in your lap like little children,
caressing each one as though
they need tender love.
You arrange them in
steady rows for a good nap,
laying them so as to capture
each ray of the sun.

But one is chipped, cracking
from the pressure of winter,
and you bemoan its fate,
consider it fragile,
give it proper care,
let it sit gently in your skirts
in hopes of preserving it.

That's when I know
I chose right by you.


*A huge thank you to minnabird, Georgia, and Karaley for their praise and critiques.*