Hanging By the Rump

A dry falling leaf hanging by the rump of its stem

Waving to and fro with branch and wind

Mistaking you chasing me sitting and waiting

The leaf through the boughs fooling me again

You saw me; you need space

A deal to keep the balance right

Your wish is my instant command

I am sorry

I apologize for bothering you

(however, the genie can no longer help hereafter)

the grass still grows green

the wind still bends the trees

cars blow by on the highway

and I still take pleasure in these

suddenly again I find myself

the only unchanging satisfaction.

--Gnitcelfer, June 19, 2011