POETRY -
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Fallen Leaves - Weebly.com
Falling, November 2020
by Kathryn Santana Goldman
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This morning the season’s air is
crisp and sweet after the first November rain. I am unexpectedly lulled by a warm southern hemisphere sun and the gentle rustling of leaves. My maple tree is succumbing to a silent call. Shedding her verdant headdress for a radiant blanket of gold, rust, and burgundy. She releases that which limits her. This is her time of falling, to repair, rest, restore. I recline on her golden leaf bed and shed the colors of a familiar way of life. This is a time of falling, releasing the world as I knew it to allow new growth. |
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