A single leaf on a giant tree

sticks to the branch like forever.

 

The old crooked arms  holds on to the leaf,

connected in memories of warmth.

While colder the days and darker the nights,

through wind and rain, it stays

 

Then it is time, and without hesitation

the leaf leaps the air on its final jump.

One soundless journey,  swirling and gliding,

the destined ride to the ground.

 

A lonely tree stands the winter

moaning and waiting for spring.

The friend will be back embracing the branch

and the heart of the tree will be glad.

Lotta Wanner

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