Through the trees comes the wind

And bends and flutters leaf and bough

But leaves the tree still where it stands

Changes nothing, place or vow

In a world less than ideal

Just one injustice, I would change

But ease my grip, a moment's rest

And back again, the faults arrange

To what effect, the wind does blow

dead leaves dance but nowhere goes

The world still as it ever was

If it had a name, no one knows