A Leaf, A Life, An Epiphany

A tree flinches.
A country does the same.
both unsure how much more wind they can take.

A leaf holds still,
Listening for danger in its own trembling.
No rustling.
No celebration.
Not yet.
Cold mornings are returning.

People are the same.
Preparing.
Hesitating.
Their doubts shuffled like blunt blades
in the cards of a rigged game.

Silence settles, the kind before a verdict.

Birds wait.
We wait.
Knowing that refusing to rise is its own slow fall.

Leaf to leaf,
Citizen to citizen,
Time pushes hard.

Storms test everything.
Most fall.
Some cling.
Not to be mulch.
Not to be forgotten.
But to hold on one moment longer.

A near-bare twig with a single leaf.
One choice,
One voice,
One vote still matters.

Courage or surrender.
That is the narrow edge on which November balances.