Before Winter

Anticipation filled the air as breezes blew both cold and warm at once. Brightly colored leaves danced a last requiem as they fell to the ground below, never to dance again. Soon their still forms would be blanketed in silver as they decayed and turned to mulch. The man on the park bench sat slightly slumped forward tossing seeds to the gathering birds. His vision was dim and his heart ached. He also felt the ambiguous breezes that called the leaves to their death. “Eat”, he whispered to the birds, “I might not be back tomorrow.”