|Taken several days ago but still full of leaves today|
A month ago, turning trees were everywhere.
Red and gold, brown and yellow, my brothers celebrated the season.
|Broome County Library, November 4|
Now it's down to me. I am the last.
The other leaves have fallen. They sit in leaf bags and in mulch piles.
Only I remain, but for how long? Perhaps hours? Perhaps until the next windstorm? Or when snow finally comes to upstate New York?
My days are numbered. But do not mourn for me.