How strange,
                    a wind -
    
                                         carved from so many sewn skies,
                                                    shaped by their myriads of touch,

                     whisks this leaf loose
                 
                                     like its many other siblings clasping
                            
                                a perennial tree.

        Its capricious wandering leads it into

                                         an ephemeral twilight,
                                                                              
                   where neither incandescence obscures
                             nor dimness blinds,

        where another of kindred breed,
                                                        
                                                         spun from any imaginable happenstance,

                              
                                         meets it.

         

            As they caress each other,
   
                                                   their edges scar their mark into the frailness     
                                                                                                      that they are.

         There is a sound as tides of darkness break their embrace;

                        the echo speaks: in this moment they are gone,

                                    
                                           in this moment they are here forever.