I’d make a lousy leaf.

I couldn’t happily leave my tree, my family, my home.
I expect I’d be one of the last, holding on, looking down
and nervously watching my siblings.

Seeing them heaped and occasionally lifted
to fly, to dance in a whirl of excitement
– free of past commitments.

Maybe then I’ll gather my brittle courage,
eyes clenched shut, ready at last to jump
and to let go, into the unknown.

Only to find myself kicked around by ignorant children
who have no appreciation of the journey I’ve been on to get here.

Oh well, this is a new season.
There’s no going back now.