Fallen leaves
Blow like small tornadoes.
Twisting and turning,
Picking up dust along the way.

Sunshine strong in
A cloudless sky
Distorts sight.
But deep in darkness
The eyes must turn
Inward.
Self-reflection difficult
No impossible.

Sorting through
The wreckage.
Sifting among
The shards of broken heart.
Shattered soul.

Gathering the remains
Of the person
Who used to be.
Once full of hope and wonder
Once with the world ahead
Not behind.

Now on your knees
You reach out
To the flurry of leaves
With open hands.
You grab
As much
As you
Can hold onto.
But when you
Open your fists
Flakes
of
tattered
leaves
float
to
the
ground.