The leaves are quiet this morning, but that doesn't mean they aren't there.
I thought my grandpa was crazy as he sat in the kitchen rambling about
Leaves like they were people. Of all colors and shapes, but they move and act as one body in nature.
I was eight, and I barely understood the personification; the metaphor.
It is most unfortunate that because of my ignorant thought processes,
I only caught bits and pieces of his wisdom. But when the leaves all begin to change, change to fit the season,
Then they fall, they dissipate.
Now that I am older, and he has passed, and I am sitting at his funeral,
I remember this conversation.
I ignore the teachings of the preacher to interpret the words of my grandfather.
My only regret now is that I accepted his contribution too late,
Now I cannot formally thank him, I can only offer this wisdom,
Once passed to me:
The leaves are quiet this morning, but that doesn't mean they aren't there.
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