The Standing Leaf

I pressed my paw against the clothespin's tail until its jaws opened wide again. The dry blade of grass drifted away. I tilted my head... watching a crisp yellow leaf tumble across the slate stone. Carefully, using my nose, I guided its stiff stem straight between the parted wooden teeth. I lifted my paw. Snap. The clip clamped tight onto the stem. Standing balanced on its squared wooden ends, the leaf pointed straight up into the air like a tiny golden sail. A soft breeze swept past, making the leaf flutter and lean, but the wooden clip held firm against the stone. I rested my chin down, quietly watching it sway.