Dead of winter

An oak leaf lies on the concrete slab that surrounds the place where I work. Its purpose fulfilled, -- converting sunlight into energy for the stately oak it hung on -- it's now tossed about to and fro at the whim of the wind. Its once green color, turned to yellow, then to red, then it lost its grip on the branch where it lived its entire life and fell to the ground, a copper, lifeless shape. But even in death it will give life once again, for when the wind (or the leaf blower) pushes it back onto earth, its decay will transform the ground into fertile soil where an acorn might sprout and eventually become a stately oak dressed in beautiful green leaves that will, when their season arrives, turn yellow, then red, then fall to the ground, a copper lifeless shape ...