Leaf

I am a yellow leaf
beautiful in autumn,
reclaimed and spent.

my pavement spans.
it aches to reach
past it’s hold.

short on intention,
short on desire,
and just nowhere to go.

who needs another wall,
another sign to shun
of another street?

more to withhold.
none to care for.
more to watch but not feel.

the wind I thought I loved
was only a breeze
who didn’t care.

I had good but
just gave bad,
over and over.

I learned that
intentions count for nothing
and leaving
was the only thing you could have done.