When a Young Leaf Falls

When a Young Leaf Falls

 

 

The reddish-green leaf

falls with a decayed brown one.

The young leaf,

with its new lifeline, has not

felt the breeze linger on its body,

a storm threatening its life

and that of its mother root,

before turning into a 

caressing drizzle

 

The silky new leaf has not

seen its sibling bud blossom

into an enormous orange flower,

its petals hiding all the leaves around,

spreading its fragrance

into the neighboring trees

and the lusty young humans

with braided manes.

 

The new leaf has not felt 

the tiny butterfly

wrap its body around it

like a baby curling 

around its mother.

 

The smooth leaf falls,

listening to the ghostly whispers

of leaves that inhabited the

trees decades ago.

 

The fallen leaf looks

more alive than any tree leaf, 

the flame of life

still engulfing its features.

 

 

Padmini Krishnan

 

Padmini Krishnan is from India and currently resides in Singapore. She writes haiku, free verse poetry, and short stories. Her works have appeared in Writing in a Woman's Voice, Under the Basho, Terror House Magazine, CafeLit, and Plum Tree Tavern among others. Her e-chapbook was recently published in Proletaria.