I am not a withering leaf anymore

 I  am  a  withering  leaf

 Me thought

I   am a   withering   leaf ,

floating  on the oily water,

chlorophyll  already   deserting:

lines   criss cross sustain  me

to  the  stemmed plant .

 Lengthy   stalk  and  stem,

 cute   buds, fragranced   blossoms ,

 pecks   and  pots and pails  of water

flow  to the rim of  the  brim

of  leafage. Still I am inconsolable;

early  birds   call, close by

chirp  and  sing, as  if  knit

Ode   to  God  and  Nature,

sit   and  serenade-  a see-saw.

I  lose my  shade.

Near  to  yellow, yearn  for 

The  preservation  of  Green:

Every bud, every  offspring

A delectable  bonanza, amidst

The  tiny   gregarious  leaflets.

Sudden drop of  Mercy from

Above,  a huggie   from  a

  good Samaritan:  to   undo

the withering :  No, no, I am

not  a withering    leaf anymore.