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THE LAST LEAF
The tree shook itself in the early spring air,
It glowed inwardly at the expectation of spring,
What would nest in its leafy branches it could only guess
Would small birds make homes in the hole in its bough?
Hush! Out on a limb it felt a small movement,
Its life giving rising sap touched a tender spot
And a leaf bud felt the life blood come to its pores,
The first of many, it sucked the sap and a little later
Was able to extend itself and grow to a full bud.
Pop! The leaf burst through, the tree had given birth,
Soon it would be a glorious full leafy bower.
Late spring and the leaf had thrown off its shell,
A delicate shade of green which would darken later.
The leaf and its friends sheltered many a song bird,
Chipmunk and squirrel from summer heat and also
The heavy rain that did fall, although the light rain
Of early fall were delightfully refreshing.
By late September, the tree began to withdraw its sap,
The leaf cried out ‘what is happening to me,
I am drying up from want of nourishment’,
It was determined to cling on, it slowly changed
Colour to a dark russet gold, its friends had fallen
And he was all alone, at last he could cling no more,
Then fluttered to the earth and joined those gone before.

Brian Margetson October 15, 2003