The other leaves turned gold and brown
and fell beneath the eager wind,
but one leaf among them remained behind
to try the strength of winter's mind.
Silver it shone gleaming in the cold
three ringed moonlight, glistening
with frost; a cast from a mold
made of glass. Silence stood listening
for all that was still waiting
to realize that the end had come to
the leaf. It fell smashing
to the ground,ice crystals
tinkling with unflawed precision,
glass veins cracking with blue
diamond glints. The decision
was made that the beauty was through
the power of the display. The leaf
lay crushed beneath the weight
of its glory, twisted and shattered
beyond repair. It died as celibate
as when it began; the rape of the ice
mattered little to it. Silver it lay,
though long ago forgotten, maiden unbroken,
gleaming silver through one day.