I am just one of them

I am just one of them,

a fallen,dry leaf;

not a throbbing in my vein,

draped in yellow grief.

 

I was not one of them,

when Marie came along;

I was on the top-most branch,

singing her a song!

 

I was not one of them,

when Marie looked at me;

she thought it was only the wind,

taking off my glee!

 

I was not one of them,

when Marie gave a smile;

it was like a year-long summer,

with winter just a while.

 

I was not one of them,

my green was greener then;

and why not,it was Marie's voice,

that invited the rain!

 

I was not one of them,

till one day Marie came;

she was walking hand-in-hand,

Ivan was his name.

 

I am now one of them,

shadows bring me rest;

is that Marie you again,

footsteps in the forest?