One time ago I saw a refrigerator tree standing in a park surrounded by blankets and fleshy vessels
they stood around with bassy tones dripping of the the days dealings
Laughter raining down from the clouds of Happiness; filling the spaces of solitude with
noisemakers. The silent breeze had lost its voice and the rustling of bushes at first bloom.
So I thought, at least, about the contrast of a deeply warm sun and sheet of cold that slid in
from the ocean. The protective barrier of this unusual tree, common to the bay but
this leaf had no spice or common use, just fluttered down like the disturbance of speakers.
Perhaps there was an investigation of space mixed the desire of isolation
But the meaning of a solitary leaf drifting away from the trunk did not escape me
as it had fled the tyranny of a bark that lacked bite.
It took a moment of looking up to see that it was coming down
yet as it trickled away from its origin
The blankets almost served as a landing signal that it rushed from with intensity unknown to green
that populated its ultimate resting place.
I knew not the destination, if it was chosen or voluntold; whether it was forced to go or if
it could not longer stand to hang around a place no longer offering sustenance
I suspect, for reasons unknown, that it just did not want to hold on anymore
and knowing that a fall was a slow process; one that would resist the action that drew it away
a picture of simplicity averted through the fateful determination
that it was tired of watching from the anchored position of a cold home
Or maybe not when I saw a leaf fall.