restricted access My Love Is a Leaf
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72 My Love Is a Leaf You were standing in the chill October air, waving to me from your open door. You were speaking for the leaf that was your heart-scarlet maple, yellow oak. You were joining the chorus of leaves in a voice as clear as the trees were bright. You were singing the song you’d sung before ten thousand times from your open door. I was driving away on Blue Mountain Road singing to myself, “My love is a leaf that burns like a tire. My love is a leaf in the rearview mirror.” You were falling as I sang this made up song. You were as quiet as a stone on your way back down. deNiord text-2.indd 72 11/10/10 10:40 AM ...


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