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Maple Leaf
I watched a maple leaf’s descent to ground.
It’s downward swaying motion, every now
And then a pirouette without a sound
Until it came to rest so gently down.
I asked myself: A life so brief and yet
So beautiful, is life to be defined
By lasting time and taken for granted?
To go around in circles disinclined
To find profundity-Sad existence!
Ah! But the leaf, its purpose foreordained:
To live a measured life, a subsistence
Profound in many ways and unrestrained.
To waste a lengthy life, so incomplete
I’d sooner live my life a maple leaf.
poem
by
Albert Ahearn
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