The breeze came and turned it a little.
The frost made it slightly brittle.
The wind hit it in the middle.
And the rain ended the riddle.
It was a leaf.
It was down with many another;
Maybe a sister or a brother,
On that branch over yonder,
Before the rend made them wander.
Its life was brief. – eab, 10/65
Written while a college student, Cincinnati,Ohio
Separate-Holy 