the little leaf

clinging tenaciously to its twig

the dry yellow leaf

trembles and twists

a cruel St Vitus’ dance in the teasing wind

and refuses to let go -

afraid to fly

the shifty breeze reconnoiters

and strikes again

wheezing up the trunk

rifling the raggedy branches

into a twitching frenzy

but the little leaf holds on

the breeze hangs still

and contemplates

the shrivelled yellow leaf

spinning on its skeleton thread

etching nervous patterns

at the tip of its tiny twig

suddenly the wind shivers again

a testy bustle in the black boughs

and with a frisson of delight

the little leaf leaps

into the golden-blue air

crying:  I fly!  I’m free!

Cynthia Buell Thomas