‘The Leaf’s Fall’
The Leaf’s Fall
First and foremost, before you run screaming or stare with that wide open stoma on your face, remember that I am a living creature too, and I have every right to speak as you and your pets do. Now, I have a complaint to register with you, as one representative of a species to another. Are you listening? It’s so hard to tell when you constantly move around like that.
The issue is that of the last leaf. Yes, I figured you’d like that, but you need to consider: every part of us has a purpose. The roots bring the water, the leaves make the food, I’m – oh, what’s your human phrase? – the brain of the operation. I make the two work together, so that we all stay alive. The leaves though, they have another job. When they begin to change colors, they begin to die, and they start poisoning the plant. Their last job is to take that final fall.
It’s a scary jump, but they all do it, one by one, to save the plant. Now, there’s always one or two who are a bit afraid, a little unwilling to let go, but, after everyone else goes, they find the courage, with a little nudge from the wind, to let go.
That hasn’t been happening though, because of this human fascination with the last leaf. You humans have made it a travesty to fall. My leaves cling on now, fighting to be the last. They no longer engage in contests to see who can take the most graceful dive, who can complete the most somersaults on the way down. Now, they simply crash to the ground in misery. Please, I implore you – ask your species to pause and watch each leaf fall.
Robyn Bashaw graduated with a BFA in Creative Writing from SFASU. She’s previously published in Gabby and Min’s Literary Review, 300 Days of Sun, and NUNUM. As an author, she aims to wade into the despairs of humanity and dwell in the deluges. Check out her full list of work at: https://robynbashaw.wordpress.com/.