The Leaf

March 11, 2010
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One gust of wind is all that it had took/to thrust the golden flake across my trail./Perfect enough to enclose in a book,/Not one inch of it damaged, yet so frail./Crunchy and crinkly, yet delicate./Oh how lucky I am to have found you/in this spectacular New Jersey state./From an oak tree you blossomed and grew./I guess now is the time to say goodbye./Goodbye doesn't have to mean forever./As you float away into the lue sky,/I think, "I won't find one like you, ever."/So i will continue my search to find/Another leaf that is one of a kind.

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