TWO LEAVES

Far across the grassy meadows, into the horizon,

A gravel drive runs like an incision,

The clunk of my boots melts into the air,

The sunshine fires up everything, gloom is neigh rare.

A soft breeze brushes past my tires body,

I take refuge under a tree, with thoughts seedy,

The breeze makes the branches sway, leaves talk,

I feel drowsy, amid this quiet murmur, with a thought-stock.

Gently, with care one rubs the back of other,

Consoling her with the love and warmth of a mother,

Their story is unknown to me, a stranger,

I look at them with reverence, and say ‘Roger!’.

Their talk resembles the two busybody lovers,

Whispers of immortal attachment slips past their cozy murmur,

Promises are of unending and immovable support,

Yet they go about their duty without a blundering report.

I wish I could stay here for eternity,

Till I get rooted or be at the verge of insanity,

I have to move on, leaving the lovers behind me,

I look back at the tree for one last time, for the chat which I can’t ever unwind.