Abduction Poem by Mary Champion

It was late Fall.

The disorderly wind tore through the woods,
roughly detaching leaves that pranced,
aimlessly, in the turbulent air.

Slaves to the tempest,
they whirled wildly
on their unwilled passage to earth.

Carelessly abandoned, on the woodland floor,
they found temporary respite,
until the relentless gusts
raised them aloft
to repeat their Dervish dance.

Finally, as the breathless wind collapsed,
they settled in a muddy pool
which seized them in its sticky grasp-
held them fast when the next blast blew -
destined to decay -
and to nourish the wood that had spawned them.