The last of all the Summer leaves left hanging on the tree,
was turning to the Autumn winds and begging “Please take me”
In the Springtime he had burst with thousands of his kind,
but as he sadly looked around no others could he find.
 
Remembering all their Summer fun he fondly thought of when
they’d photosynthesised the Sun, producing oxygen.
When chlorophyll coursed through their veins and made them bright and green,
but now he’s brown and on his own - no others can be seen.
 
They’d all gone to the ‘Great Below’ where leaves fall when they die.
Oh, how he wished that he could go and with the others lie
instead of hanging in the cold just waiting for the ‘drop’
He dreamt of after-life leaf mould. His torment wouldn’t stop.
 
For how he wished to be below amongst his former mates
decomposing with a glow to vegetative states
returning to his pre-leaf state before his axil birth,
with others he would aggregate, enriching Mother Earth.
 
Just then he heard the faintest snap and felt sublime relief
and slowly as he fluttered down, this sad and lonely leaf,
he knew, as nature’s plan had meant, he’d constitute the nutrient
required by surrounding trees to bring forth next year’s crop of leaves.