bored leaves
play charades on their tree
with sun and wind,
becoming dark targets
of rustling emeralds
shot through with diamond bullets,
or lanterns
soothing the steel blue fear
of lowering clouds
with a soft glow of hope.
shears of sun
cut green tinfoil leaves
to shimmer around
a dance floor of wind
until evening
quietly melds
a puzzle of lumpy whispers
into a whole.