The Leaf

Caught in a rush of wind
it swirls and rises
then gently spirals
down toward the river

Another gust nudges it
over a rock
then another rock
and into the
cool choppy water

It swirls again
this time with
less grace but
still in harmony
with the flow

Once more it spins
joining with others
just like it
creating a colorful
carpet rushing over
jagged stones

Hours later
fifty miles farther
it comes to rest
torn and tattered
but fully alive

Prompt: A voyage poem

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