The winter-shorn

trees scratch calligraphy

against the sky and

I strain my eyes

to see what

truth lies there.

Straining my ears,

I listen to the

whispering leaves

and wait

breathless

for the words

they speak.

My heart

yearns… longs

to know their

secrets… to feel

their comfort.

To be swept away.

A brittle leaf on the

October wind.