leaf
come down
said the blue grass
but the yellowing fellow
only gripped tighter
to the brown barking
branch begging him to
break off, but in spite
his stem pinched
plugging both hands
white knuckled in
pathetic persistence
he wouldn’t pluck
refused to fall –
if it be the death of him
to fall meant to break
the wristwatch and tick
backwards, trickle
independently in to the
unkempt pile in the street
and become
one shade of red in a million
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