A Hike.

I was walking in the forest
against the brook formed by the melting snow
my sneakers touched the mud left of the Spring

A quiet wind blew from far away
nearer and nearer
it approached the trees beside my ears
the sprouting leaves helped it gain a voice
and it got louder and louder

It was almost here and it tried hard to push ahead
across the boundary set by my ears hearing back
When it did so, it passed in a sudden
the sound slipped into the future
cannot be held

It spoke to me the language of time
transitory as the fluttering leaves
eternal as the shining stars under the dark dome that encircled the trail

What is a leaf to the Appalachian mountains?