Leaves on Asphalt

There is something amazing about autumn leaves on asphalt.
I look at their curl, bright undersides contrasting with their own pale tops.
There is the hint of a shadow outlining each one, giving them definition.
The soft overcast lighting highlights their brightness while accenting the shadows.
Each leaf, maple, oak, or linden looks purposefully placed.
Each lies deliberately flat or curled, twisted or wrinkled.
I can picture myself staying here, sitting on the asphalt, afraid to disturb perfection,
Staring at this complex wayfare.
I could go blissfully crazy.
And people would point out that mad woman who watches leaves.