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.