Traveler looks at the last brittle leaf
clinging to a time-bent bough,
a blaze of colour,
in the moment before it curls up,
falls to the ground, blows away.
It whispers its message to her,
this just-before-winter of her life,
when she most wants to hold on
to all that has never been more dear:
"Yours has always been
the Traveler's path ~
Posted for C.C.'s prompt at dVerse: a poem to do with traveling. Traveler has written many traveling poems - here is one more.