What the wind brings, it can sweep away.
Those leaves settled
only briefly
before they were
gathered up and carried off.
The limbs still lay
where they were felled.
Will I be limb,
or trunk, or leaves when wind sweeps through,
as it has before,
leaving me shaken
and forlorn?
JDG
An evocative and whimsical reflection with a lovely delicate voice and pace. Well done.
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