Do seedling leaflets oogle
at the leaves to be
or do the sigh since
its growing closer to death
Can they join the distasteful
wind to implant elsewhere
removing their root too
soon to grow into the aching
cohorts unrecognizable from each other
quaking and turning yellow
for it is autumn and the
Mother soon will die
the sick witted flies cackle at the thought
they are destined to one short day
relieved at the lack of decision
they whisper to the leaflets
"**** the life from this world
as quick as you can
your time's being wasted
the more that you plan"