The verdant green leaves lay in a pattern on the white wood floor. Their fresh morning newness filled still with life and the power of spring. They had been taken from their home in the swaying trees so recently that it seemed as if they had not yet realized that the life they had unfurled themselves to find was gone.

Not for them the lazy days of summer glistening with sap and sunshine. No, these leaves had been taken in their virginal youth and laid here on this sacrificial floor. Arranged around a sea green candle.

They had been betrayed. Robbed of the fullness of life. Plucked and plopped without having made their way through the heat and ice cream of August and into the glorious show of autumn where they would have let go of their green and lit the world with shades of amber and crimson before dropping to the earth to scamper across lawns and create joyful crinkles beneath the feet of sweater clad children and wet nosed dogs.

But this loss, had not yet occurred to them. The news, had not yet traveled through their stems, through their veins, and reached their pointed edges.

Their life had ended, their dreams were gone, and yet they lay there filled with green innocence not yet knowing... its over.

Am I that green leaf?

Plucked from the womb of my mother, I wander forth to play and grow and smell and taste and roll in the long grass of this life, but how numbered are my days?

I fill my mind with the sights and sounds of grand first nights and ripe old age. But are they really there? Is there any future out there? Or have I just not gotten the word? Not heard the message moving through the stem and veins of my being.

Am I a hopeless, hope-filled fool, lying on the green alter of my own imagined life, destined for




this moment.

This brief dance of consciousness. .... This exquisite, foamy, terrifying, exhilarating, day.