the gust of wind ...

a gust of wind brushes past
leaving in its wake a troubled heart
the wind never to be held
life more like the autmn leaves,
twirling in t wind , the momentary high
jostling together in a circular brace,
only to fall on the path
for some sprightly soul to walk past...
to leave a crushed leaf...
its momentary high , the lovely brace
all to come to a naught....