Foliage

November 17, 2011 

Waking up wrapped in blankets and sheets, a chill on my skin.  Pressing my face into a pillow I arch my back and curl my toes.  Breathing deeply, I fill my lungs with the air of a new day, exhaling the ashes of poorly recollected dreams.   Blinking like a babe at the sun leaking in through shades, I inch deeper under covers to shiver and sigh and come to terms with the morning.  Sleep seeps back in, filling my mind with half-formed visions of what never was and never will be, all while I’m still aware of fabric on bare skin and a clock ticking.  A feeling of falling and I jerk, my eyes open wide. I extricate myself and yawn and groan and sigh.  Finally resigned to wakefulness, I gaze around my bedroom and reach for my glasses when I catch a glimpse of movement.  My jaw loosens as I watch the hazy silhouettes of falling leaves travel past my window.  Fluttering lazily, the delicate foliage creates a void against the rising sun, drawing shadows across my exposed skin, coming to rest on the cold stone below as a blanket for the earth against the coming winter, leaving the tree bare, leaving me stunned.

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