As the wind brushes the branches,
the leaves of the tree fall,
scattered upon the soft dirt,
they have been discarded.

One by one, they begin to flow,
caught in life's vicious current,
trampelled with ignorance,
into tiny crumbling pieces.

Still, the wind blows relentlessly,
the fragile binds; shattered,
a cruel, unavoidable cycle,
of stale life breathed anew.

Copyright ©2015 Jamie Johnson