Upstream

The leaves swam up the sidewalk.

Lime green, chartreuse, brown.

Over the cement they went,

out of the gutter and on.

 

Three of them made it. Two

had eyes, the other one, blind,

was led by their ripples in

the stream, a beam of light.

 

People strolling on the urban

river at times glanced down, saw

them struggling against

the odds. Everything made new.

Done