The leaf fears,
As the dew drop slips,
When the grasshopper leaps,
And the darkness seeks.
For what could it do?
As the wall clock ticks
And the crickets creak
While thoughts piled in heaps.
Hands would it need,
to hold on to it
To the dew drop of its.
But hands would it not grow.
For it is just a leaf
that in the dry summer heat,
would leave.
(C) by me.