The crisp autumn air rustled the tree’s orange leaves.
A lone leaf fluttered off and whirls around.
It jumped and twisted and flipped on the browning grass.

Another leaf joined it; it was a red one.
The wind picked up and they danced together in a cyclone.
Then the breeze took the red one on a different journey.

The orange leaf was alone again.
It was dragged against the rough street.

Kids ran down the street in their hats and hoodies.
They didn’t notice the lone leaf.
It tried to dodge the children, but it was trampled.

It laid there, some pieces flapped in the wind.
Nobody again noticed the single, crushed leaf,
And finally,
One day,
Its last pieces just flew away.