Like a tree,
watching its last leaf throw caution to the wind
and break loose from the only branch that it's ever known
to fall to the next stage of its existence,
I have watched you blossom,
only to stand by while you leap,
without looking to see where you will land.

Does the leaf miss the tree?
Does it remember the blush the first time it was kissed by the wind?
Does the leaf remember the way the tree protected it when the storms came?
As it lays on the ground, and looks up at the tree that held it tightly for so long,
Does the leaf even recognize the tree?

The naked tree...left to its own thoughts,
preparing for another winter that will leave it bruised and frozen
until the sun emerges once again,
and with the spring, a new leaf.

And the old leaf still on the ground...wondering...
Does the tree remember?