Far from Home

Sycamore leaf
Far flung from home
Alone now,
Without your kin,
Among strangers.
Free at last, you roam.
Caught, not by binding stem
To the home tree;
Caught in a new place
Low in the lowly grasses.
Sights are foreign.
Life is crowded still.
You fluttered before;
Fought furiously
Fought free; 
But you didn’t know 
How to fly.
Come rest against 
The wall, the house, 
The garden gate
‘Till you find family again.