Cat Gullotta: One Poem


Every Autumn Mom and I go outside
To the tree in the yard with the green bird house
Where squirrels search for dinner
But we search for something more.

Leaves litter the dying grass
Covering the ground like a blanket
Sloping up in praise.
We make our way through the pile
As if we tread snow.

We can see the sky through the branches
Almost absent of leaves
Yet some remain and are pelted by wind.
They try to cling to hope
To life
To their tree
But are swept away in the breeze.

We wait for this with arms up and hands open
Wondering if a leaf will fall into our palms
Or if we’ll have to run for it.
I always run.
I chase the leaves with greedy fingers
Trying to save them from their doom
And give them my own.

I grab the air but hear no crunch
Instead I catch the leaf
As if someone had thrown a glass football.
I cradle it in my hands and look down at its wrinkles
Wide and splayed proudly among the pumpkin hue.

I caress it between my fingers
This leaf has never touched the ground
And it never will.

Cat Gullotta currently attends Champlain College with the hopes of becoming a Professional Writer. She grew up in Connecticut with a mom and a dad and four older brothers who taught her everything she knows about being tough. They have supported her every step of the way towards her goals and are often the inspirations behind her writing. She has previously been published on the online magazine Chivomengro, as well as through the Paragon Journal.

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