Leaf On My Floor

featured in the book Good Day with the art of Gale Whitman

You, leaf on my floor,
inside my house,
in through my door,
you, done with your work,
unwanted leaf,
get out!
out to my fire to burn!

Leaf On My Floor

Bob Komives

 

I, boot on your stem,
bend,
blood to my head,
stop,
kink to my back,
feel,
guilt to my heart,
smile,
time to rethink.
          
You, leaf on my floor,
found under foot,
blown through the door:
I know
generations of your ancestors
helped my tree
make energy from sun,
grow,
give out seeds
and give me beauty;
I know
this year's beauty included you.
     
I, months ago,
        said to a friend,
       look at the beauty in that tree leafing out.
Weeks ago,
       I said, look!
       look at the beauty in that tree turning red.
Hours ago,
       I said, look outside!
       as leaves fell beautifully in autumn wind.
Now,
       some class of hypocrite am I
       to treat a leaf on my floor
       as clod of waste to put out the door.
 
If this were a just world
I would be found guilty of leaf slaughter
or reckless abandonment,
imprisoned in a cell
where I could see no leaf,
no tree,
no change of season;
in a cell so clean
it could never know you
nor twig,
nor seed,
nor speck of fertile mud.
           
I, blood into my heart,
guilt out through my head,
pride straight up my back,
say, come now,
dear Leaf,
dear Retired Leaf.
I take you up from my floor,
back through my door,
to beneath our tree
and set you gently to rest.

Bob Komives :: Fort Collins © 2001 :: Leaf On My Floor :: 0107