Some Always Remains

It's a kind of magic

that these warm Autumn winds
blow in memories,
hidden on the backs
of the leaves which
swirl around my feet.
I find my childhood home,
preserved in miniature,
near the stem of a brilliant
maple leaf
and I sit, mouth agape,
until the wind circles around
and carries off
most of what it carried in.

Wind

Who has seen {
     the sudden rise
   and  w
      s   ir
         l
of what had been
    amotionlessgroup
  of drying leaves
     ing
    s
  ri
in a small cacophony of sound.
}
the wind?



*In response to Carry on Tuesday