Awaiting Change

Save me from these
leaves that change
their colour, once
ricocheted from the soil

I’d rather live some place
where the wind never lets
the leaves drop on the ground
Where gravity refuses to be a
part of this chicanery
Where the delusional tree
doesn’t have to be the part
of an asymptotic change
To realise that it had always been
The same leaf
The same flower
The same fruit