I looked at the dried leaf
Being blown by the wind,
I felt so sad thinking
That the leaf would no longer
Be under the shade of the tree.
It would be exposed to rain and wind,
Crumpled under the feet of men and animals
And slowly be reduced to dust.
From dust it was made
And to dust it will go.
pramila khadun
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A poignant,poetic vignette.A lovely poem.
Thanks dear Vijay for this encouraging comment.
A singular, fleeting glimpse of life captured with consummate aplomb in this snapshot of a poem.
I simply find your comment so superb dear friend Louis.Thanks from my heart.