it is the last leaf, the one that could not let go
dangling there as if suspended in the air
but clinging. Always clinging to what was.
If the whispers of the wind aren’t enough
flipping and turning but
stubbornly will not fall.
The last leaf
clinging to the tree
holding tight against the night.
shivering in the cold
but holding tight.
as we watch waiting
we bound to the fate
of the last leaf clinging ever to the tree.
Do yo notice the last leaf in a tree ever