San Gabriel Valley Poetry Quarterly

Rose Anna Hines
Falling Leaves
 
I watched your body wither for months.
Life slowly drip, drip, drip
until it lay around your feet.
But, your mind was still green and vibrant
yesterday afternoon.
 
6am, I got THE CALL.
You stopped breathing at 5am.
 
My mind couldn’t hold the thought.
I stared out the bedroom window.
A breeze blew.
My eye caught a pumpkin orange leaf
floating to the ground.
I watched it turn and
make its way to a pile of leaves
scattered on the grass.
It fell next to a yellow leaf
which lay on top of a cinnamon colored leaf.
A leaf which looked like someone sprinkled mustard on it
touched a brown crumpled leaf
kissing the edge of a crimson leaf.
 
I found myself naming each leaf
you Milton on top,
Christina, Frances, Bud, Carol, Phyllis
for mentors, friends, kin that have fallen.