Fall

IMG_2287

 

Fall

 

Just now, under the aspen tree

you saw a spark

or a sunlit flash of wing

 

and thought of flight

and wonder

 

and then 

as your eager wind spun 

to meet not flame, nor feather

but tree

and leaf

and endings

 

you looked down.

 

It was almost a relief 

to fall, finally, and to land 

not

where you’d expected 

but gently

and with little fanfare

 

into these

arms of dirt and bone

 

caught 

like a drop

of shivery light

 

and held 

like smoke

or a gossamer web

 

between the dream’s 

incantation

and the bright fall 

of its form

 

to what waits beneath, 

and the remembering 

 

that whatever is caught

must first 

let go.

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