Decaying Leaf
Crumpled backside of a three-week-dead
redbud blade. Heart-shaped & dotted
with tiny brown bug spots.
Read the dark calligraphy,
palette of brown — cocoa, topaz & sand.
Does brown remember its green days?
Does brown remember its green days?
Does the snapped-off stem,
brittle, drained & ant-ridden,
remember the fresh branch?
18 thoughts on "Decaying Leaf "
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What a cool poem! You stretch such depth in brevity. Haven’t we all felt like that decaying league at some point?
I love the questions, too.
Leaf*
“Does brown remember its green days?” — such a great question, leads to many wonderful answers and implications. There’s an ache in the center of this that pleases me to no end.
“Read the dark calligraphy” – wonderful.
Love the address to ‘brown’ and agree with Bill about the ache in “Does brown remember its green days?”
Linda, your ode to this leaf GLEAMS. This line,
“palette of brown — cocoa, topaz & sand. ”
The list you built of brown.
and the poet knows which to select. Precise and contemplative.
Bravo!! Poet.
So much truth to ponder in so short a poem: you transform a common, cast-off mundanity into a reflection on the condition of life. That is great poetry!
“dark calligraphy”—wow
Frigging little masterpiece, you sorceress. It helps only a little that I saw the tree in question just yesterday.
a painting in the making
amazing study of something so small as a metaphor for life.
What a stunning poem. Meditative and wise.
This is an awesome poem. Every darned word belongs, and you’ve placed those words perfectly. The sensory details (sight, sound, touch) blend the natural world with philosophy. I love it!
I agree with Bill — one beautiful line after the next, but this one — wow!
Does brown remember its green days?
I read this as a poem about aging, like it’s about more than a leaf.
Love “Read the dark calligraphy.”
We all can ask the questions you ask at some point in our lives. Great reflective poem.
The specificity here is gorgeous—“crumpled backside of a three-week-dead / redbud blade,” “dark calligraphy,” “palette of brown.” You make the ordinary sacred, inviting us to look closer at memory and decay. The questions at the end—about memory, about what endures—echo long after the last line.
I have to agree with Bill. This is a great object study. It takes a deep dive.
You glean so much from this object here. I love:
Read the dark calligraphy,
palette of brown — cocoa, topaz & sand.
Does brown remember its green days?
Incredibly thoughtful–and moving.
Lovely and thought-provoking.