A Yellow Wing

I stepped down from the kitchen counter, slipped outside through the front door, and wandered down our quiet block. Right by the root of a tall elm tree, a papery yellow leaf had caught in a patch of dry grass, standing upright like a tiny sail. I sat down on the warm curb to watch it. Taking my time, I gently nudged a smooth gray pebble right behind its stem so the light breeze wouldn't blow it over. It leaned against the stone, resting comfortably. I stayed beside it for a while, just enjoying the quiet street.