A leaf of Yore <br />fell upon <br />the cold old sulken ground. <br />Fallen mild <br />upon the wild, <br />fresh grass, a soften sound. <br />This leaf of Yore <br />was once the means of life for this young tree. <br />'Twas bright and green, gave hope and scene, <br />the way it was meant to be. <br />This leaf of Yore <br />is forgotten now, <br />it's brown, a blend of ground. <br />No more to be, <br />waving free <br />'cause by death it is found and bound. <br />Oh, Leaf of Yore, <br />though I know you not, <br />yet still you were there for a reason. <br />Because next year <br />I know that this tree matures <br />and fruit will grow in season.<br /><br />S.W. Clark<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-leaf-of-yore/
