Autumn Fall Spring [better] -

Not in words, of course. But a single leaf, high on the easternmost branch, would let go. Not fall— leap . It would twist down through the golden light, spinning like a dropped coin, until it landed in his lap. That was the signal. Autumn had begun.

One for you. One for the fall.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “One more time.” autumn fall spring

He sat on the bench as the sun went down. The tree shed its remaining leaves in a silent, golden rain. They covered his shoulders, his hair, his lap. He didn’t brush them away. He closed his eyes, and for the first time in three decades, he didn’t feel alone. Not in words, of course

He had kept that promise for thirty years. It would twist down through the golden light,

The tree was dying.