Of a Leaf

This site doesnt allow for structure... I hate it. So do your best to read it as the picture is.

While the dirt and earth are stone,
I don't exist.
Not even as a thought.

When warmer winds and moisture
come,
to thaw the branches cold-
I begin to come alive
a budding leaf foretold.

The sun is food for every vein
that courses through my
skin thin flesh-
green as grass below.

Days grow short and
food runs low.
Drifting to the earth
real slow.

Once was green but
now I'm brown.
Siblings and I
cover the ground.

Winter is soon to be.