The leaf

A leaf landed
on the surface of a pond.
Small waves
circled outward like a rose
unfolding.
Fish nibbled at it.
Wind, like a giant finger
moved it gently across the smooth surface
pressed between water and sky.
Slowly,
after days, it
sank
in
pieces.
Some larger,
some smaller,
drifting silently to the
muddy floor. Only a leaf
in a quiet pond
on a clear day.
The smallest change
yet still occurred
still felt
and by me
not unnoticed.