A leaf spun from seedlings
All alone on the shore
After the tides have leased themselves out into promiseland
From comfortless miles drawn inland
It diagonally floats upon the plural of sand
On dry flat sandpaper
Even planes of slippery smooth
Wind picks up speed
Lifts the leaf caught up in grumble
In a ripping verve and dash
The nothing of a leaf in brisk nap
Copyrighted 2009
