Rustling Leaves
by Mandy Doerr
The leaves softly rustle in the wind
As evening's quiet comes again
The Apricot whispers to the Elm
Rememberances of laden fruit
The Elm tells of the distant tales
That only he can see
And the Poplar and Mulberry
Add their occasional comments
The Pine silently listens
To the Mimosa's philosophies
The trees ignore me as I sit under them
For they think I cannot understand
The language of rustling leaves
Copyright © 1998, Amanda D. Doerr