Lessons from a Leaf (On Perception and Perspective)

Winter Writing Sanctuary, 1.1 Noticing: Measuring A Moment

I’ve been wanting to start a substack for a few weeks and thought the Winter Writing Sanctuary with Beth Kempton came at the exact right time, though I will do an introductory post as well at some point. 

For now, today’s assignment was to write several winter haiku - mine were inspired by a large oak tree in my backyard. Most of the leaves have fallen, and a recent wind storm severed half a dozen large branches that now lay in a loose pile at the base of the trunk. As I looked out at the yard this morning, a heavy rain was pouring and the last few leaves clung to the remaining branches as the wind pulled them in every direction. Others lay in puddles of water and I found myself wondering if they danced to hang on or let go. 

-

cling to each other

limbs left bare when last leaf falls

lonely or freedom?

—

disoriented

the leaf tumbles, crashing down

ties severed gracefully

—

bright colors dressed trees

now forgotten - left to rot

crumbled, torn to pieces

—

one last leaf lingers 

dance to endure or escape

eventually falls