you would think they were dollar bills, or notes from heaven, the way the kids collected them on the way home. one more brilliant than the next, rain dampened leaves, the pavement a quilt of color. a magic carpet.
they deposited their treasure on the kitchen table and dashed off to other caches. their wealth abounds in legos and markers.
now i clear the table for dinner. the leaves are somewhere between wet and dry. starting to curl. dull. i crush them into a ball, open the back door, toss them out into the rain.
no one will notice.
