the leaf falls, not knowing that this is its last dance in the sunlight,
its last chance to play in the woodland air.
it tumbles with an elegance, but all too soon it is lost in the sea of leaves that have already fallen. part of me wants to find it, pick it up again and toss it high,
so that perhaps it will make the most of it the second time around,
perhaps, this time it will dance.
but i can't. just as i cannot relive my life,
the leaf cannot relive its own.