Wanderlust of a Leaf

Many of my more adult poems are personal, but this one isn’t, so I thought I’d shove it on here.


She’d led a quiet life.

Which was not her fault. And there had been

Comfort in the tall solidity of trunk,

Silent, unmoving.

You don’t get that from gadding about.

And then the necessity of watching

The impudent thrust

Of young shoots through soil, and of turning

Raw sunlight into food.

She has not had time for thought.

And yet now, as her edges brown and wilt,

As the cold shakes her veins, she wonders

What the world is like, and longs suddenly

To feel fingers of breeze ripple her skin,

And the twirl and swirl of the dance as she

Flies through the air in furious freedom

High, high above houses, borne

On a current that makes her cry

In sudden gusts of joy and pain.

I long, she thinks, to be me.

For weeks she wonders.

She becomes browner, more brittle, dry,

She is shrivelling.

And then one day, she knows

That it is now or never, and she leaps

Into the unknown wind.


2 Comments to “Wanderlust of a Leaf”

  1. Beautiful. I wish I could leap into the unknown wind some days . Please post more adult ones…

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