The Note On the Leaves
Upon the hymns of receding birds
To the campus my footsteps lead
And here I sit on a wayside bench
To countless tunes of life’s I hear
As I await the night I plead
To bring joy to which my soul be drenched.
And here alone I lift my head
Beneath this drooping Mabolo tree
To my surprise, I can’t believe
Upon the leaves the note had said
“Where art thou my meant to be?
For all these years I do behave.”
But as those leaves will fall to ground
So then the note slept without a sound.
Copyright © Ruth Wrights | Year Posted 2017
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