A Leaf in the Leaves
On the old broken porch,
There sat a young man.
In front of him were boxes
opened and being sifted through;
of art and books and music.
All old things.
Sitting on a step stool no one wanted,
he cried with a book open in his hand;
a large one, fit for a coffee table.
In between all of the illustration
of the famous painter, Monet,
there was a leaf.
Not a leaf of paper like the others.
Nope. Just a leaf. From a tree.
His tears fell onto a smile,
that grew from a memory,
seeded by the little gift,
left for him by someone long gone.
The leaf was dry and real
and stood out like a sore thumb
amidst Monet's wonderful impressions.
With a small puff and a wider smile,
the boy closed the book,
and placed it in the pile to donate.
He said, "you're right, mom.
It's only stuff."
And just like that, his life floated on,
like a leaf pressed in a book,
by someone with a message
much larger than him.