The Leaf

Here an aimless leaf that flew 
in an equally aimless wind
falls on your lap.

What do you do,
if you are in your right mind,
with a leaf -
twisted, broken,
drenched 
in vengeful rains
and folded 
at the wrong edges;
yet insists?

You wipe it off,
casually -
so casually that you don't even realise
it was sticking on you
like a hapless,
unfinished dream -
with the back of your palm.