The Year of No Leaves--By Joan Leotta--United States

The Year of No Leaves

Mom called me. Frantic.

"My trees changed from green to

empty in just one day!"

"Mom," I argued, "perhaps the wind

blew away the leaves."

She insisted, "Not my trees."

I visited. Her sycamore was full of

splotchy yellows, green and brown leaves.

Her maple was a glorious torch of reds.

When Mom awoke she

refused to look out the window.

"The trees are bare."

Thinking her eyesight faulty,

I tried to take her outside

to see, even touch the colored leaves.

She refused, "I know those limbs are bare!"

It was then I realized that indeed

her trees were bereft of foliage,

her mind stripped of memory,

leaving all limbs bare.

(Previously Published, Righter Quarterly, Autumn Issue 2016)

Joan Leotta has been playing with words on page and stage since childhood. You can find her on the beach or online atwww.joanleotta.wordpress.com and Joan Leotta, Author and Story Performer on Facebook.  Her poetry and essays appear or are forthcoming in Gnarled Oak, Red Wolf, A Quiet Courage, A-3 Review, Hobart Literary Review, Silver Birch, Postcard Poems and Prose among others Her first poetry chapbook, Languid Lusciousness with Lemon, will be out in March 2017 from Finishing Line.