The lone leaf

The merest whisper of autumn on the breeze, Enough to tear this tethered leaf,
From its bond of summers long,
From its birth in crisp spring sun,
But for now its course has run,
Dried edges its visible sign of fatigue, Dulling green and yellowing hues,
As nature sets its changing season,
Its final farewell to mother tree, Signalled by its inaudible snap,
Caught on drafts of pending September, Lifted buy rising warmth,
Toward a patchwork sky of blue, white and grey, Dropped as it begins to cool,
As gently it floats earthly bound,
No saviour in its future,
To be blown from curb to hedge,
As moistures leaves it crisped,
But still it floats,
No will of its own to help him on,
It hits my speeding screen,
Then disappears,
Telling me of changing times,
Left in my dusty wake and those that follow, The sad demise,
In the life,
Of the solitary and lonely leaf.


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