The Last Leaf Poem by Harold R Hunt Sr
The Last Leaf
The last leaf
The leaves are beginning to turn these days.
As the seasons ready, itself for the season change.
Brown, yellow and some green are falling to ground.Where they will stay.
The wind blows these last few days to carry the leaves to the ground.
There near the top I see one leaf all alone.
Hanging on to the branch as if it wanted.
To be For some reason, the last leaf of the season
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/23/2024 4:01:34 AM # 1.0.0.1119
