The Maple Leaf

The Maple Leaf
By Betty Laird

It was autumn, and a leaf fell
through the sun-roof into my car.

A maple leaf fell
into my car, settling
onto the seat,
where it lay.

Like me, it was withered, like me,
wrinkled and dry,
but a narrow band of green clung to its spine.

A leaf fell into my car.
A maple leaf fell.