The Last Leaf
Above the ground, among the maze
Of tangled twigs and branches bare
One trend-defying, stubborn leaf
In loneliness is hanging there.
Should it succumb to cruel demands,
Release its grip, and flutter down
The moment when it finally lands
Will mark the start of colder days
So as it clings to moments fleeting
Perched amidst the windswept limbs
It finds it has an anxious needing
To reflect on memories fair.
Like those of starting young and small
With thoughts naïve and unaware
Of what it means to be so blessed
To spend your hours hanging there.
Like spending days in humid wrath
On August nights with Hellish heat
Directly in the sun’s fierce path
Convinced the gain is worth it all.
Like being part of something more
Than one could be; forever sealed
With all who’ve ever come before
And those who still are hanging there.
But most of all, like autumn’s fame
A nine-week, majestically brilliant affair
An emotionally-saturated Friday night
Sensations to which there is none to compare.
The anticipation as anthems sing
You’re illuminated and on full display
The chaotic splendor that it brings
And the chance to exist in the midst of this game.
Like fearing that winter, eternally cold
Is approaching too fast and you know it’s the end
And try as you might, you can’t keep a hold
And the last of the leaves flutters through the fall air.
Of tangled twigs and branches bare
One trend-defying, stubborn leaf
In loneliness is hanging there.
Should it succumb to cruel demands,
Release its grip, and flutter down
The moment when it finally lands
Will mark the start of colder days
So as it clings to moments fleeting
Perched amidst the windswept limbs
It finds it has an anxious needing
To reflect on memories fair.
Like those of starting young and small
With thoughts naïve and unaware
Of what it means to be so blessed
To spend your hours hanging there.
Like spending days in humid wrath
On August nights with Hellish heat
Directly in the sun’s fierce path
Convinced the gain is worth it all.
Like being part of something more
Than one could be; forever sealed
With all who’ve ever come before
And those who still are hanging there.
But most of all, like autumn’s fame
A nine-week, majestically brilliant affair
An emotionally-saturated Friday night
Sensations to which there is none to compare.
The anticipation as anthems sing
You’re illuminated and on full display
The chaotic splendor that it brings
And the chance to exist in the midst of this game.
Like fearing that winter, eternally cold
Is approaching too fast and you know it’s the end
And try as you might, you can’t keep a hold
And the last of the leaves flutters through the fall air.
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