Sometimes, I wish I could be a tree.
To stand with my toes in the earth,
To let the wind whistle through my fingers,
To let rain bathe my skin.
To suck cool water through my roots,
To harbour creatures.
To be a safe haven.Instead I am a leaf.
Blown on the wind
I can’t control where I go.
I can’t stop
Whim carries me,
Kicks me in doorways
Slams me against windows,
Glimpses of what I could be.Then under foot I am trampled,
Gorged by bugs
Until I become mould,
Feeding the tree I wish I’d been.