Little Leaf

By Yasaswee Yashmin

Little leaf, yellowed with age,

Where will thou go once thy strength exhausts? 

Will thou be swept away with the others, deemed unessential? 

Or will thee keep holding on, to that flimsy string of the spider web,

In hopes of thy branches accepting you back again?

Poetic it might sound but am I not such a leaf, 

Almost detached from the world, 

Just hanging by a thread

That God weaved for me to hold on to? 

I might be yellowed, not with age, but grief,

Mourning the loss of uninterrupted breaths, 

Steady hands, a light chest, 

And the ability to fight the pull of gravity. 

Yet I still hold on, in hopes

Of the world to take me back someday…

By Yasaswee Yashmin