Falling
One poet calls it "unleaving"
and uses Fall and Trees.
Some give us hills to roll down,
some rivers, some skies to blunder through,
some crazy cliffs to plummet from.
Some get it said (Thank God!) in merely lines,
others in five act plays
(for some of which, thank God still more).
Many leave us dead.
Others allow the possibility,
not of turning back,
but finding another way, ascending.
Hamlets or leaves,
fall is what we do best.
And so the poets,
writing of us,
must write of it.
Carmen Leone
© 2012
Image links to its source
"Gathering Brushwood" David Bates (1840-1921): Wiki Commons - public domain
Beautiful. It gives me a sense of tragic and hopeful that I find strangely comforting. From the word 'unleaving' I fell into the poem. Seriously I love this poem so much I just added it to the 'reading lists' page on my blog so I can revisit it whenever I'd like :)
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