Dust and Ashes

Holding on by hanging,

   like a dry yellow leaf 

      waiting for the last breath

        lingering now above,

         even as many dance

to where they are going.

Is it the not knowing,

   not the fear of floating,

     nor the feel of free falling

       that keeps both leaf and limb

         tenaciously joined

as in Spring's first budding?

As the last season blows,

     the last leaf knows its hold

       will soon be turning loose

         to dance and slowly go,

           so death can bring new life,

as do dust and ashes.