Premonitions of Fall



A chill shot down the spine.
Everyone felt the sign.
Time to fly. Time for byes.
The train would soon arrive.

The troupe spun around and around.
Summer’s wind caressed, but autumn’s wind pressed.
Let one last embrace ease their rustling.
Let it hasten their scattering.

Currents drift, east to west.
The skies shortened, scribbling a draft.
Yellow, orange and black.
Return to ash, rise from ash.


4 responses »

    • Yes, I was trying to work a common message across 2 levels. The first being how in nature, the leaves of a tree fertilize the soil from which it both the tree and offspring grow from. The second being how people, particularly in the Western world, tend to separate from the communities from which they grown up from in a response to collective events (e.g. changing of a season where people graduate and leave), so that ultimately, they can contribute/create a new space where new life can begin or made feasible.

      Liked by 1 person

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