The Fallen Leaves
The fallen leaves looking at the heavenly sky
and at my own doorstep they, in silence, sigh;
they often criticize my feet as I pass them by.
Day and night, they hang around, relentlessly
and never know that they, actually, bother me
from entering and leaving my place. My kitty
cat does not like them too, ‘cos they do crackle
as she tiptoes out, eagerly, to touch the sparkle
of the afternoon sun. Ah, today I have to tackle
the task of teaching them and myself. Luckily,
these delicate hands of yesterday are totally free
from the arid office, serving my boss with a tea
that I gathered them and place them in a shelter
of green, letting their last smile not just to loiter,
but for them to use it, for Earth to have a better
feel. Now, I see them not, yet they promised me
that they’ll be back once they’ve seen the beauty,
curved from their skin, of a blossoming cherry tree.
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