spinning leaves

tipping and twirling towards the soil
these spinning leaves.
my eyes are trapped in the curl,
and the unfurling of their ragged edges,
eaten away by the weather and insects.
once green,
now turned to shades of brittle grey.
they have paled
from lack of light.

poor leaves.

little leaf, falling again to the ground.
pinned once to the tawny branches,
and now spiraling out of control.

poor leaf.

when you reach the bottom,
when you finally rest with your friends on the damp ground,
remember,
disintergrating,
what it once felt to sway freely...

leaf.