The Blowing Leaves

Two writers on opposite coasts, each find themselves writing about trees. Synchronicity.

Go look at Serpent Box’s blog. Amazing words and pictures. Here is the link:


The leaves on the trees are gently blowing, the branches bob and sway, they are dappled in the sunlight, they are translucent, their tiny lives mean nothing, to no one, but me, for I am the only witness of the leaves so gently blowing, and hovering, like angels waiting limp and solar, above the cries, yours and mine, and muting them with their leathery rustles, so that all we see are silent mouths, moving like the leaves so gently blowing, outside the window, while your arm moves across the space above your lap to pull your purse in closer to your body, and for a moment I remember, the texture of your skin and how it’s fading already, that memory, just like the light on the leaves you have become, ephemeral, in an instant, and our time has passed before us quick as the shadow of a plane as it…

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