The Not Much of the Breeze On My Arm

How absorbing are the noises as I wait Rustling leaves mostly It's so beautiful as the breeze picks up to cause them to flutter Then settle The sound is associated with a dry day There is moisture within the leaf But the outer is dry as bone I'm beneath the tree watching the branches sway and swathes undulate There's only a season for the leaves and they'll begin to fall before Autumn is even announced But the movement and music is there now I'm on the ground just looking up and listening But the breeze strokes my skin too A gentle nudge to let me know I exist