Last Leaf

-
Where soft bread crumbs lined the counter tops.
A glass filled by dripping water faucet drops.
A lone girl collects her past, through and through.
As she watched the creaking overturned canoe.

The good times were but just a blur.
A simple time when nothing bothered her.
With cherries, berries, so very sweet.
Need not worry what she had to eat.

A little girl still has a right to dream.
For neither sugar nor an ounce of cream.
A right to apply what she had learned.
So that new leaves can now be turned.

Though she may leave much to be desired.
What, in her, had the new world required?
Another dollar another feast,
Everlasting, ceaseless peace.

In the reality that she had come to use.
She would notice not what is beneath her shoes.
An overturned leaf that is now beside her.
A pattern that looked much like a spider.

Now what ever could this mean?
Who could paint her such a scene?
A setting that is so serene?
What my open eyes had never seen?