Leaves in Memoria

 The sun sets through broken clouds,
reflects off flickering leaves falling
to the ground before
the cold winter sets in.

In a passing moment, 
        their lives reflected 
                before they dissolve 
                away to nothing.  

They are not real. Not now.

Their flesh was only an illusion 
        of every other leaf,
                every other face 
                        that gazed upon them.  

They were the buzzing bee 
        that pollinated its flowers,
                the caterpillar that feasted 
                        on its tender shoots 
                                and laid its eggs among its branches.  

Each leaf was something else 
        experienced a hundred-fold.  

They too were not real. Not now.  

For what once was, 
        death takes away.  
                Becomes something else.  

We loved, we hated.  
        We were sad, joyous.  

Not now.  
        No longer real.  
                Simply were.


—Paul Causey

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