When the leaf falls to the ground,does it feel lost and disconnected,
abandoned,
separated,
or just confused?
The link to tree
is all it's ever known.
And when its colors glow
from green to red,
from gold to brown,
does it think to itself,
"This isn't right!
I was born to be green!"
In the exhilaration of the fall,
the click of separation,
the slow spin,
the lift of currents on the breath of wind,
does it rejoice in unaccustomed movement,
or only mourn
the loss of what went before?
* * *
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