Piece Of Creative Writing

Autumn came with all its might. Grabbing trees that could not fight; turning leaves crispy brown and yellow, except one little leaf that stood fast and would not bend. It did not want to die, it seemed to yell, and refused to obey the natural order; instead preferring the vestal decor.

I watched the little leaf blow in the strong winds. Fall it would not, it clung on tight refusing to let go of the branch it grew on.

The trunk of the tree was cold with frost and naked it stood. Not tall as it once was in summer, but it seemed to have sunk, as if tired in the winter winds. As testament to what it once was, the little leaf remained green and unblemished.

The entire tree had lost the battle but the war still raged with the little green leaf. Although the tree had given up, even on the one little leaf; the leaf did not.

Gazing up at the once flourished canopy, I wept for the leaf. Alone and bare, it was vulnerable to the elements.

Precariously the leaf angled on the twig, attached limply to the crooked branch. Defiant, the leaf clutched on, not lamenting its roots, but showing the strong colours of its origins and ushering in a hopefulness to all.