A beautiful day, leaves falling down,
tapping the pavement with the remains of their stems.
The morning light reflects off the wet, shining grass.

A car flies by, sending the leaves up in the air.
The don't touch the ground again.
Cars go by on the pavement, reflecting the sun off the windows,
patches of bright and dim color among the natural leaves,
still held in the air.

Suddenly the air shatters.
People like him can make such a thing happen.
The air shatters and the sun is gone.
The leaves start to fall to the ground,
no wind is there to lift them.

Hearing those words, from someone you thought you knew,
can hurt you. It can make you feel like you just witnessed
the end of all things.
These words weigh us down,
keeping us from flying like we just were.

The sun is on the other side of the house.
It can't shine through, and the grass has dried up.
There are no more cars driving down the road,
it's too dark.
The leaves won't fly in the air until tomorrow.