I once br as a young boy br stood on a little br wooden country bridge; br tip-toed to look at br the languid moving water br br Tomorrow popped up - br the wind that had blown in br tore off a leaf from br a tall standing tree br roots entrenched br by the water's edge br br and this leaf br wafted and fluttered br and glided into the br current below br taken bodily br where gravity pulls br br and drifted upon the br wavelets lapping br and pushing br its severed self br far, far away into br the distance br br I heard the crickets br and the cicadas br droning in the br afternoon sun; br those things could br ruin your ears! br br and all the while br I gazed upon the br fallen leaf br hoping to spy on br what the future br promised downstream: br br that if I let go br of whatever it was br that kept me there br feet dangling through br the rusted railing; br heart racing br br would I wake up br and return to the br bustling world br unable to swim br against the current br rudely torn offbr br Frederick Kesnerbr br