Sounds of a drifting leaf

The rustle of leaves fills the air,
They bustle from upon the ground,
Each looking to find it's pair,
All wishing to themselves be found.

The wind blows them about once more,
And into the air they're once again lift,
To find their friend each one is sure,
And yet they'll float further adrift...

Those leaves which fell from but one tree,
When the wind blows, who knows where they'll be,
Drifting, they're drifting apart; drifting apart,
'Til strangers once more they'll be.