Hi! This is my poem entry for the April 2021 fic prompt, "Write a story from the point of view of this character: A leaf".
Treestar MemoriesRuled by the leaf.
The dinosaurs knew it well. If the journey to the Great Valley had taught them anything, it was the sheer importance of their precious green food, their Treestars. Life would cease in the way that they knew it.
But what of the leaf? It knew not.
The leaf could see the sky above it, the branch upon it, and the ground beneath it. The leaf has always permeated its surroundings. It was well-versed in the windy swaying that the middyear storms brought, surviving the ash that fell upon it in Earthshakes, and the tearing it felt when it eventually was tossed by the elements to the earth below.
Or eaten.
And yet, even in death there is life. Though the leaf can never know its merit, it knows its purpose. It fills nests and dinosaurs' bellies. The Treestar is good. That is something it can comprehend in some way, by some strange stroke of the Earth's wonder. The leaf has no allegiance to that but to the earth itself.
One Treestar had a particular fate.
For reasons unknown to the leaf, the others had completely vanished. Many eaten, others crumbled away into dust only to be carried away in the breeze. As far as it could tell, it was the last leaf in the grove of trees it had always known.
The seasons had changed before. Following the Bright Circle's ebbing and flowing, the other leaves had fallen and regrown again, stronger than before. It seemed to the leaf that perhaps times were different now. Something had been changed or interrupted, and along with it, the other leaves it had been nestled in beside had completely disappeared.
Where were the others?
A leaf cannot exactly express loneliness, though its purpose seemed to be evading it. When would its earthly journey finally commence? The leaf had no way of knowing what fate it should find. Would it too fall to the dirt below and seep deeply into the ground? What eggs would it surround and warm, if there were indeed still eggs to warm?
The earth rumbled, shaking the leaf about on its spindly branch. The rhythm and steadiness of the thumping alerted the leaf to the fact that it was not elemental, but the tell-tale steps of a crossing dinosaur.
A very tall one.
The leaf knew not of all the divisions and tribulations between the earth-dwellers. What could it know that the other leaves had not known in their treks across the landscape? To tell the leaf that it was a female Longneck reaching up towards it would mean nothing; each one was always the same.
But this Longneck sought not to eat him. How peculiar to be plucked down from the dewy sky and down to yet another dinosaur, a smaller one. The leaf knew not of young, though something seemed to be different. Why must it be given to them?
This leaf was a gift. It ruled not the dinosaur, but heartened him.
