The Passing
The leaf knew it was time to go
from its life high atop the oak
Drifting down as gentle as smoke…
glancing slightly off the other leaves
Softly floating downward on the breeze...
its journey not unnoticed by the rest
...who tried to stay it with their best
Falling to earth... it found its crypt...
while above the other leaves softly wept...
©Faye Sizemore 7/17/04
Webmaster: Thurman P. Woodfork
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