The Lady of Leaves – A Poem

The leaves had 21896039-abstract-autumn-image-lady-autumn-with-leaves-wings

started to change

colour. No longer

green, they were

filled with hues

of red and

gold and orange.

The world was 

once again moving

towards a rainbow

of colour and 

there was a

crispness to the

air that smelled

of wood smoke

and hints of 

the coming cold. 

I came upon 

a line of 

leaves, leading into

the distance. They 

were all the 

same brilliant yellow, 

so bright it 

almost hurt to 

look at them. 

With the leaves

forming a path, 

they looked as 

if someone had

taken the bricks

of the yellow 

brick road and 

arranged them. I 

was going to 

walk by them

when a wind

rose up around

me, causing the

leaves to circle 

and dance around

me. I heard the 

crinkle of leaves

and watched as

a woman, dressed

in a dress 

the same colour

of the leaves

came walking down 

the path towards

me. It was 

only as the 

cyclone of leaves

ceased it’s movement

that I realized

her dress was 

made from the 

leaves themselves. She 

smiled at me

in a kindly 

sort of way. 

“The leaves normally do not react that way towards your kind.” 

She said. Her

voice sounded like

the wind rustling 

through the trees. 

“They’ve told me to take you with me. Come.” 

She held out 

her hand and

I took it. 

The skin was 

dry under my 

touch and I 

wondered why I

was going with

her so willingly;

but there didn’t

seem to be

anything to fear

from her. There

was an almost

regal presence to

her and I

felt comfortable immediately.

Her skin was

like paper under

my own. She

saw that I

had questions. My

eyes gave me

away. She smiled

kindly and began

to walk down

the path, bringing

me with her.

All will be told in time. Your curiosity is good though, it will serve you well.”

She walked slowly,

as if every

step was somehow

painful. Indeed, she

was almost limping.

How will my curiosity serve me well?”

Oh, curiosity keeps the spirit alive. When there are always things to look at, to see, to discover, the soul and spirit grow. It’s the natural way of things.”

She stumbled then

and crumpled to

the ground. I

bent down to

help her up

and was amazed

at how light

she was. She

saw my questions

in my eyes

again, at what

I wanted to

ask her. She

held up a

paper thin hand,

stalling my voice.

I am all right. Again, it is the natural way of things, these changing of seasons.”

We still walked

further along the

path of yellow

leaves. I stopped

and looked at

her closely for

the first time.

Not only was

her dress made

of leaves, but

her as well.

I could see

where the dress

should end, there

was merely the

change in colour

to a lighter

shade of leaves

that made up

her skin. I

stood back from

her, taking all

of her in.

Yes, I am made from leaves.”

She said, as

if reading my

mind. She smiled.

It is my time to fade away. Look, there is the tree I was made from.”

She pointed to

a large oak

tree, it’s branches

bare of all

its leaves.

She motioned to

her dress, offering

me a bright

smile. There were

tears in her

eyes though and

I longed to

wipe them away.

It’s almost winter. That is when my time ends. I’m born when Autumn arrives and can walk the earth when the leaves fall. My time is almost done.”

How can you stand it?”

I asked her.

It is the way of things. You have to live life when it’s given to you and not spend time thinking of what could have been. You can only think about what is.”

More of her

leaves, more

of her, fell

away as she

spoke, the leaves

joining the ones

already forming the

path. I realized

then that they

all came from

her, that she

had marked her

path across the

ground with herself.

Why are you showing me this?”

I asked her.

She gave me

one last smile.

So you know. So you can pass this knowledge on.”

A strong breeze

ripped across the

air and her

whole form fluttered

with it, as

if she were

coming apart at

the seams. I

watched her until

all I could

see were her

eyes, blinking like

jewels among leaves.

Don’t forget. Live the life you’ve been given and don’t look back. Always look forward. Always.”

Then a final

wind rushed by,

tearing the last

of the leaves

away. I was

surrounded by a

swirl of leaves

and could hear

the sound of

her laughter. It

was joyous, as

if she weren’t

really dying. It

was the sound

of freedom. I

looked at the

path of leaves

and stopped to

pick one up.

I put it

in my pocket

and it sat

there like a

ray of sunshine

that would help

keep me warm

through the coming

winter. The wind

sounded as if

it were sighing.

I won’t forget. I promise. I won’t forget.”

I walked home,

thinking of the


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