MAGICAL REALISM

Made of Leaves

Photo by Rodion Kutsaiev on Unsplash.

I am made of leaves. Now. It was not always so. Once I was just a boy. But now. I am made of leaves. Like comings and goings. But. Mostly leaves.

Sometimes the wind whistles when she blows through. A rustle of longing for something that has left or is no longer here. Leaves.

I am something like a bush but less. I am leaves but I am also flesh. I know nothing…