All Is As It Should Be

Now and always

Photo by Tomas Anunziata from Pexels

From the sit by the window,
death dances.
The five-lobed sycamore leaf — now brown, brittle
carried in the swaying arms
of the wind
to her final resting place
on the cold, damp earth.

The smell of wet grass is in the air.
A squirrel climbs up the trunk
of her former home.
Starry sister-leaves, vibrant and green,
turn sunlight into food.