Saturdays

After they have fallen off of trees

leaves--

twisting,

born individually

writhing with new life,

walk barefoot, moving swift with the wind

to the ground.

She moved within her life

sweeping along, touching many.

Her color dusting the ground rubbing the feet of all that follow

She saw us

moving barefoot, swiftly with the wind

twisting

each of us moving closer to the ground

she painted us with her color.

We follow her with painted feet.