The Leaf Floats to the Ground
The leaf floats to the ground and resists the free-falling stomach-rolling sensation of fear. The landing is surprisingly soft but the gentle rain covers her and she lies in the carpet of needles, unable to move and missing the breeze that used to blow her gently as she hung. "I will die here," she thinks, imagining herself as a crunch under foot. She rests and the droplets caress her and the sun shines prisms of light on her purple veins. © Christine Salkin Davis, 2018