A/N i wrote this one afternoon like three years ago, while staring out the window at a maple tree losing its leaves. Take what you want from this.
Last of Leaves
The last of leaves
Hang on a tree,
Blowing in the fierce wind,
Desperately wanting to be free.
The tree clings tight,
But slowly one by one
The leaves break his grasp
Until all but one are gone.
Wind whistles through the naked branches
Trying to steal the tiny, malformed leaf,
But the bond between tree and leaf was too strong,
Wind relents, not wanting to give more grief.
The first major storm came
Ice, snow and sleet,
Filled air and covered ground,
Gathering up to over three feet.
Mighty Tree holds tight
To his tiny friend.
While the fearsome wind blows,
He prays, this will not be the end.
Puny Leaf clings
To his only fellow
Begging not to be torn apart
As the great tempest bellows.
Icy slush pelts both tree and leaf
Causing fragile Leaf to shred.
Brutal blusters swipe the leaf,
Breaking the bond’s last thread.
Two friends reach for each other,
But only inches short.
Weeping Tree, falling Leaf,
Barely hear Wind snort.
Worn, brown Leaf,
Lost in the swirl of white,
Stuck in a world,
Glistening with light.
Darkness falls.
Heavily, Tree’s limbs hang,
Longing, thinking, wondering,
While only cause a pang.
Somber sky,
Rushing gales and frost,
Mark the day
A friend was lost.
YOU ARE READING
Poems
PoetryPoems I have written from years ago to now. For any of you looking for a love poem, you most likely will not find one here (unless I write one in the distant future because for some reason my brain short-circuited and thought I it would be a good id...
