We Leaves

Leaves are like little people,

green when young, but turning

brown around the edges

as they proceed to ageing,

then fall to pieces in the end

Hang on then, my children, as long

as you are able, to Mother Branch of branches.

Separation’s dissolution, spells

an end to meaning.

Remember, to your horror, you, too,

can be like people

if your ways are not stable.