Grasp a Leaf, Floating

I touch the leaf, floating

Among silent eaves, dozing

In quiet ponderance, hoping

For brief respite.

Sloping, roof above my head. Still

Groping, for soothing balms in rooms,

And busy lives despite –

The irking branch, croaking,

Creaking, in restless ears and

Stopping, the slumbering steps

Where, walking, I smell the time.

And all the flowers, talking,

The whispers of many minds

Stalking, halls flooded

In empty lies.

I grasp the leaf, gasping,

Hoping, for a brief –

Broken respite.