Today you can write about anything, in whatever genre or form, but your post must include a speeding car, a phone call, and a crisp, bright morning. (Wildcard: you can swap any of the above for a good joke.)
Lonely, lonely leaf,
you were blown so far away,
from the meadow to across the street,
the car chasing you into the hands of ‘arm’s way.
you ended up on my sidewalk,
now just staring up at the sky,
the bright mornings roll on, and the darkness paints new dyes.
great days await, but you are just one who fell from the tree,
landing at the asphalt like so many souls before my knee.
to preserve your memory, I placed you in my view frame,
pressed the button, and gave you a name:
you are the lonely leaf,
so small, so simple, so fragile,
having no thoughts but the need to find ways to travel.
you were not easy to capture though,
the wind blowing and rolling you like a baker’s dough,
your paperthin body leading me on a chase,
trying to make sure my skills go to waste.
but just then my pocket buzzed,
and I pulled out the thing that was making such a fuss:
it was a call from one of those howlers,
telling me with great excitement
that I had just won a million dollars.
you are just a lonely, lonely leaf,
that will never be remembered,
and as I am writing this,
you are long gone,
becoming once more a part of the weather.