I saw the leaves.

I saw the leaves
Clearer today.
The picture on my wardrobe.
Lonely as it is.
Saw myself from how others
Could paint me
First time never.
Saw the garden as my home.
My home, just as my refuge.
I saw the leaves on the bush,
Outside my bedroom.
Their wistful, insistent rustling
Amidst the moaning wind.

poem by Peter Vealey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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