Leaves

And that day we just drew leaves

Leaves that were green and brown and red and gold

Of spring, of winter, of summer

Of autumn

Some were perfect, some a little wonky

Some didn’t look like leaves at all

But they were leaves

Leaves fallen and scattered and crushed beneath our feet

And we still drew them

Because it doesn’t hurt to draw objects that nobody sees

Or cares for

Somebody should see them and draw them and capture them

Even leaves deserve to be drawn, don’t they?

They deserve to be seen, don’t they?

And they don’t have to do anything to be drawn

They can just be leaves

And we will still see them and draw them

Just as that day

When I drew you.