The dead leaf fallen,

At my bare, sordid roots,
Like many that had been,
For all came to the same,
Soggy brown end

Yet this one smiled,
Like none before,
Oblivious perhaps yet bold,
“What makes you smile,
Past the last mile,
All sultry in the cold?”

“Oh tree to be, the melody,
The sweet voices do you hear?
The one that whispers to my soul,
The one that calls me near”

“What tells you of the saccharine end,
Leaving behind a sorry friend?
To a deep dark place beneath,
Harbor of all you ever did seek…

“You used to flutter on my branch,
With the passing breeze,
Overlooking the other’s
Last minute miseries”

“No, look up”
Said the fallen leaf,
“There we shall someday meet.
Up there isn’t all I ever did seek,
But here in your words, as we speak…