The leaf. Held on,
despite its withered,
colour-changed state.

Remembering. As autumn
stored away summer's memories
like the squirrels in the gardens.

Grenfell. Westminster Bridge,
Finsbury Park and Borough Market
had tried to steal its greenness.

Then it fell. It fluttered,
on a barely perceivable breeze,
down between some tourists.

I saw it. Settle there,
on the Square's grass, unnoticed,
ready for decay

and the renewal of life.