the yellow leaf, the wrinkled yellow leaf was looking for freedom. it was tired being part of something where it did not have much choice. it had to sway with the wind, it had to bear the caterpillar walking over it. it longed for freedom. but it did not want it the way it came.
the autumn was waiting in the wings. and when it came, the yellow leaf got its freedom, at last. it was no longer there. but the freedom meant severing all the ties with the past. it had the freedom to fly but not the wish. it had the freedom to float but not the wish. it had the freedom to die but not the wish.