The Leaf

by Anita Lubesh

for leaf poem.jpg

Slow motion’s gentle
breath is on the breeze;
shivers of tantalising
promises deftly stroke
light hearted manner
at play,

lifting skirts for sun
to find faith in greenery
suspended from charm.
Youthful, tenacious,
innocence and naive,
hand span characteristics,
hide in clenched fists,

until each yearning unfurls
still clinging to a mother
stood among the forest’s
hardwood girders; teaching,
reaching out with etched veins
like a palm full of the visible
threads of wisdom and life lines

that are channels of discovery,
and each a fine prediction of younger
nights and that the time
for falling, is still far away
into the distance.





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