Leaves and You.

As I sit on the curb.

Leaves rustle and nuzzle against my shoulders.

I find myself wishing the leaves where you.

Like you, the leaves flew off with the wind.

Never to be seen again.

But knowing you are out there with someone else.

And to my end, sitting on a curb, still wishing the leaves where you.

D. Randall Dollaway

Kansas City 1973  

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

What wonderful comparison...a signifcant other to leaves...Perhaps a breeze will help her fly back to the speaker.
j.