A leaf

A leaf, long dead but clinging still now falls,
Silently floating, a slow spiral down
To the cold earth below, beneath the crown
Of a great oak, a single leaf, that’s all.
What has happened between the leaf and tree,
What insidious memories recalled,
To kill so easily, such as life’s appalled,
Making  the bough now bare with treachery.
This brutality of nature is just
The final act, the curtain call that brings
Finality, the closing down of things.
The sad and slow return of life to dust.
Speak of the time, past and to future come,
That the brief years are all too short a sum.


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