Turn here

Yeah, I know – we all do.

Turn left here.

A leaf deserted by summer, fall,

Welcomed by winter wilds,

Yeah, I can see the need to decide

Whether to fly

Rustling in cool desperation

Pushed and pulled

Or stay, to bury deep in the

Crisp, fragile, smoky ice,

All gets distorted by the ever

Widening circles of falling rain,

Frozen tears

Turning red from rubbing

The mud – like blood.

I feel my heart beating hard,

Cracked open, spilling my life

Onto this dismal gray,

As the slow read rises out from

The horizon

I am a leaf locked in winter’s

Embrace, unable to flee or fly

Waiting for sunrise to thaw the

Ice and set me free,

But these days never get warm

Enough. I get tinged with hope

Before all goes grows cold again and

Then I can feel my fingers move

Or my toes, but they do not

Move for long before I am

Frozen again,

And when it gets warm I

Still do not fly

Nowhere to go, no one to

See, nothing before for me than

The endless cycles of ice and thaw

And the endless flow of the river at

My feet, a river that will at some

Point rise high enough to bear me

Away to somewhere I do not know.