Fate, or: Folly

A leaf blown high into the sky
lets out a wistful, knowing sigh:
"Well, goodbye, my dearest friends."
Distressed, his friends kick up a fuss:
"This shall not stand! He's one of us!"
Undone thus, all meet their ends.

38 thoughts on “Fate, or: Folly”

1. “Let’s out a wistful, knowing sigh.” Brilliant David! 😁👏

   1. 🍂 Ken 🍂

2. David, this is lovely. I hope my demise is as peaceful as the drifting autumn leaves! ❤