The leaves are falling; 
it's time for their passing.
They were but buds
just yesterday.
Now, they've lost their 
bright hue
and shine.
And they fall away from their home
pushed by wind
or gravity
or time.

But no one queries 
about leaves after abscission.
Does anyone mourn their descent?
Will they be remembered?
Does anyone tell the tree,
"I'm sorry for your loss."
or, "they're in a better place."

A few lucky leaves 
might be plucked
from the tree
or collected 
from the ground
And glued to construction paper 
for eternity
as a gift for a special loved one.
Is it a privilege or a burden 
to become a decoration?

I have cremains.
Ashes.
No more brightness or shine
only chunky, dull
dust in
shades of gray
in a bag
in a box.

Like a disintegrated leaf
that will never be cherished 
on a homemade card
created with love.

Five years ago today 
1,826 days
the radiance and sparkle 
left my son
and I acquired
dull, chunky, disintegrated, gray dust
that lives
in a bag
in a box.

Does anyone want to tell me
my son is in a better place now?

Holly Margl is the award-winning author of Witnessing Grief; Inviting Trauma and Loss to Our Coaching Conversations, An Enneagram Perspective, coach, coach mentor, and trainer specializing in grief, trauma, and the Enneagram.