Last Leaf

The last leaf, the very last leaf,

Falls in a kind of twisting almost float,

As I sit on my sitting log, and ponder life out of the boat,

 The last leaf, built of last summer’s sun,

It’s a shade of wonder to think,

that of all the leaves that fell this Fall, this is the last one,

And as this last leaf, in total silence, gracefully falls,

The silence gets very, very loud, and the voice of the leaf clearly calls,

 Don’t come to this place, to sit in this space,

With or for a purpose, with some driven inner need,

Even though you have an oozing emotional bleed,

Just come here, to be, like me,

A last leaf falling from a tree

 

Glenn Thomas Fell

December 2008