sycamore leaf
spirals slowly to the ground
a sepia Da Vinci helicopter animated
on the parchment page sky
momentarily defying gravity
on its way to composting
in the garden
another on the deck chair
and another in the cactus
impaled having been
green, then yellow
now brown and soon invisible
every year the
same since the Cretaceous
the ancient airshow
celebration of decay
dead leaves rain down
until the branches are
naked revealing the owl
perched unmoving
except for the eyes
seeing all things
a hummingbird darts
between dimensions
appearing here
and then there
stopping time
briefly here
then there
seconds pass like millennia
on its inexorable
journey to the stars
now here
on hot summer days
bees line the rim
of the birdbath
taking turns with finches
sparrows, towhees
and doves
for a drink
some end up dead
in the water
slipping from edge
and drowning
their bodies curled like
little fuzzy embryos
melting into the embalming fluid water
with the sycamore leaves
dumped in the garden
mulching the flowers
that supply the pollen
that feed the hive
that drowns in the birdbath
so is the cycle
attraction and danger
demands of hunger fulfilled
by the end of life
a sacrifice for the living soil
all together in the
backyard
like money and destruction
peace and war