I feel the wind
I hear the poplar leaves chattering
I see one break free from the tree
I watch it dancing in the air

I feel the wind drop
I watch the leaf fall
I hear it touch the ground gently

I imagine it withering soon and then rotting
I wonder if the leaf is content
Were those few seconds of graceful flight enough to balance its short future?

I feel the wind again
I see the tree sway
I forget the leaf
I feel warmed
I feel warmed
I feel warmed

. .