Leaves That Get Carried Away

It was a sleepy afternoon, yes, no one was really awake enough to be paying much attention. A warm wind running its fingers through the leaves has a way of, well, making one ignore the unpleasantries around them, or even suspecting that they are in fact, unpleasantries. Absolutely perfect, undeniably, that is the way to describe her. That wooshing sound, the rushing calm breezing by and zooming away. Oh I am nothing much, just a bit of soft air chiming in here and there.

She fell asleep in the tire swing,I walked up and blew gently on her face, I'm just the wind little leaf...

An old women walking her dog strolls by and I immediately say to her "G'day Misses, really couldn't be better could it?"

"Oh I really don't think so, lovely little thing you've got there. Me and Coco are on our way to do a bit of napping ourselves," she says without ever really stopping and hardly needing to slow down. She just stretches her voice a bit to get it here and there and leaves the wind to do what it will with her words.

I pick the leaf up out of the tire swing stirring below the tree, and I carry it away.

Miles and Miles and Miles we drift. A blowing, gusty nothing, that is all I am. She rises and falls and soars to places. but never really begs to be set down. And then when I'm done twirling her, I deposit her on the ground, to let her whither, and crumple. I bow out and blow away to the next set of leaves to rustle. I am nothing, nothing much.