Wind gusts blow
the final few
from the oak.
I have chased
its many leaves
into oblong piles
and bagged them
for mulch.
I have raked
and raked and said
more than one
little prayer to each
pile of damp leaves
that it would be
the last this year.
This is the last
and I wonder
how many more
piles of leaves,
seasons
with this tree
remain
for us both.
Time is coming
when we will face
our final fall
together and say
our final prayers
and leave for others
what remains.
I am thankful.