Fingertips Brushing Off Leaves

The morning air was filled with the sound of dry leaves breaking. One person knelt and laid a hand on the dog's side. The one beside them crouched down too. The fingertips brushing off the leaves lingered there a long time. The dog lowered its head and licked the back of that hand. Bits of leaf crumbled between fingers and scattered in the wind. One of them picked a leaf off the other's sleeve, then set it on an open palm and looked at it a long while. No words passed between them. Only two hands moving at the same tempo. When the two rose and began to walk, a few leaves rolled after them. Even after they disappeared at the end of the path, the smell of dry leaves lingered in the still-cool air.