A fallen leaf floats by to who knows where?
Upturned and sailing like a little ship.
Glider-like it fluttered through the air
Its usefulness no more to oak branch tip.
Fading shades of gold and wrinkled brown,
Majestic green a mem'ry of its past.
Discarded like its friends it tumbled down,
A moment's history not planned to last.
It floats by like the life I used to know,
It has no purpose, destiny or goal,
But has no mind to think and wonder why,
It has no heart nor figment of a soul.
It once gave life to such a mighty tree.
I watch it pass and think it could be me.
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