leaf

The smell of decomposing leaves hangs heavy in the air.

I walk with my leaf blower in a futile attempt to clear my yard.

The December day is uncommonly warm. 

I look towards the upcoming festivities as a necessary evil. 

A distraction from the foreboding winter.

The uncertainty of the new year consumes my every thought. 

Under the dry leaves lie the wet, necrotizing black leaves. Forgotten until my forced wind migration. 

The smell is familiar. The breaking down of chemicals to be one with the earth. And it all begins again. 

Insignificant are my emergencies.

For I am that wet, black leaf...