The last leaf

  

    The last leaf leaned
    Into the wind, clinging
    To its branch – not for
    Any imposing reason
    I suppose – watching
    The wind whip it this
    Way and that

    I sat with my back
    Against it, drifting my
    Thoughts whichever way
    It blew.  I felt something
    And tried to recall but
    As I did I saw the
    Branch stripped bare.