‘Leaves’: a poem

Leaves are boundless,
with aid,
with company,

They do not wish to be side-barred
into the creases where walls meet the ground,
where young children are dragged away from
by middle-class, efficient, authoritarian parents.

Leaves

are like adolescent dogs in shelters
past their prime now,
but still there,
too ugly to win over loneliness

Leaves have a chance
There are no ugly leaves,
No plaintive-eyed, badly bred leaves
with a history of violence.

They long to be disturbed
from their resting nook,
kicked into dervish

I give them what they want.

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