After a talk with friends
|We fall like leaves here –
Swept up by winds
Of remembrance that bear us away.
We do not think about our trees, bear of bark,
Left by us to blister in the sun.
We are too stubborn for our season.
We avert our eyes from the rising ground,
Turned an early brown, it is
Hard and uninviting.
We only know those who fall like us,
Sharing this last opportunity
To avoid compounding our grief with solitude.
The wind seems cruel,
Until that architect of our destruction,
Emerges as our unwitting savior!
We are all tossed about the same,
though our height and directions vary.
We know only one comfort:
We are here, and not alone.