Monday, October 23, 2017

Poem: Mass for a fallen leaf

I wrote this poem a few years ago. It's appropriate to the season, so I thought I'd share it here.

 photo pixabay

Mass for a fallen leaf

On the street I saw a yellow leaf that

a car had driven over, leaving a

tire print resembling a staff of music.

I looked around for someone to show it

to, but everyone was hurrying through

sheets of rain. I gave it my most solemn

attention for a moment. I could have

taken the leaf home and dried it between

the pages of a book, but I left it

at rest on the pavement. I saw this as

a minor act of love: I thought someone

else might see it, commiserate with its

flattened, tired condition, read the notes, and

take comfort – just as I did when I walked

off, humming its autumnal requiem.       



  1. I saw the staff imprint on that leaf, Jeannie. Who knew the imprint of a tire's tread could render such beauty?

    1. That's actually a stock photo, Tim - but I do remember having the same reaction when I saw the particular leaf that inspired this poem. (I didn't have a camera with me that day or I would have photographed it.) It took a couple of years of mulling this image over to bring the poem together, but I'm happy with it. And yes, it is amazing where you can find beauty.

    2. I wrote unclearly, sorry. I mean I see it through your word picture.

      You write good.

    3. Well, that is even better! No, you weren't unclear; I just misinterpretated you.

  2. Your poem immediately transports one to a place and a day most of us have been, but which we rush through. Poetry is, to me, mysterious and wonderful in the way you poets can focus our minds on some small piece of our world and see something new about it, as you demonstrate here with a leaf on a wet street - Jeff Parkes

    1. Thank you so much, Jeff. As I said above to Tim, it took a long time before this became a poem. There was just something about the image that stuck with me, though. I'm glad you enjoyed the poem and took the time to comment as well.

  3. I love your poem, Jeannie. Even moreso because today was the first day of real rain here. And we have lots of yellow leaves around here. (The only color they turn.) Blessings to you, friend.


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