Poem: Strange Leaves

hanging from the trees.

no fruit no more. just

leaves. all that is left

are leaves. and the fruit

was rotten to the core. so

now there’s no more. no

reminders – for sure; but no

growth can come from nothing.

strange breeze leaves just

strange leaves. leave it be. now

there’s nothing that we can

remember that could be as

strange as the fruit those trees

once bore. no…