Alpine, Al
My morning window reveals some of the last leaves of summer on branches bare of most of their companions. Their hold, no longer firm with resolve...looks tenuous...do they fear the floating, free fall to earth? I think not...frail, yes, tattered, certainly but suspended 'tween heaven and earth they approach this day as they have all the rest. How is that...has their notion of "future" shortened with the daylight...are they merely waiting for the nudge that sends them floating? Again, I think not...I imagine that they spend their currency for this day as they have all the days before...they choose to meet what nature has in store with the best they have to give. I hear them whisper, "I have a choice and so, for yet another day... I offer up my heart."
