For Green Leaves on the Ground

I've always wanted to be a tree,
you said. To watch the world pass.
To stand on a corner and watch
the people go. To be bigger than them,
bigger than just people, man, that's
what I've always wanted. No worries
for your roots 'cause you've got no family,
no need to be a part of something else,
just your roots in the ground, man.
It's depth in height.

As for me, I was only half listening,
with my gaze fixed fast on the ground
where a branch lay full of green leaves.
Something decided these leaves weren't right,
pulled them off and left them to die, to wither,
believing they're still alive to the end, bright
waxy green cheeks paling, drying, disintegrating.
And nobody cries for green leaves on the ground.
You've always wanted to be a tree, I said
'cause you've never felt like more than this.