Rkay

Leaves Falling




Leaves from that bough

Which the whirling wind

Tore off a tree looming

White against dark skies



The one the other

Will not tell



Dropping


Crashing


Shattering



Into the bottom of minds

The hour of the dead

No one will outline

Whose minutes give way to

Letting go

__________________
Poets never die_____________________________________

Scratches

Cripes! I've just discovered if my finger hovers a couple of centimetres from my ear, I can hear crickets. Anyway.


I loved how you worded the first stanza. After that I had that horrible feeling of wanting so desperately to understand something, but... not. After about three reads. Again - this could be me. But I can't fully enjoy something if I don't even have a vague sense of what it's about.

__________________

Never get so attached to a poem
you forget truth that lacks lyricism
and never draw so close to the heat
that you forget that you must eat
- En Gallop, Joanna Newsom

Rkay

Indeed.

I see what you mean as I read through that. This was of course written several years ago. What struck me was the imagery of the first stanza just disappeared and the poem went wandering off.... sort of like a stream of consciousness thing..... And I recall that my thoughts would either wander off or stay focused on one thing as I walked through the forest.

Thanks Scratches, for articulating those thoughts.

What I do when such a mood strikes me, is to let the words just suggest by implication and tone what those leaves are meaning.... This time around this is what it meant to me - leaves bud and sprout and then they fall away - that is the way with life - things happen and that with or without explanation - they just are - so let go of the questions and flow with life; let go and move on....

Rkay

__________________
Poets never die_____________________________________