Life Bursting Out All Over

The trees dances, their branches throwing up flocks of leaves that flew, spiraling on the breeze.  We walked down the street and the grass was waving and it tickled my legs and Kat laughed and laughed.  The cars shouted and the windows opened to breathe in the air and the pollen. 

It was springtime.

Then Kat stopped.  She clutched at my hand, tugged so hard it almost came off.  She pointed.  A leaf was drifting along the road, brown and curled.  Moving with the wind, not against it.  Just drifting.

“Look,” Kat said.  “Oh, look, the poor thing.  It’s dead.”