Time has come to one fallen in this season’s grace.
To reflect on former selves, memories of what once was;
A rustle of colour springs to the eye
Beading and blinding like
That of a sea of autumnal surge. Splashing
And swirling about this
Craggy stack, embracing
The iris of his being. When…
Realisation flooding,
Fragments of self, and old –
Falling gracefully –
Haphazardly –
Before that very eye –
One’s life caught forever more –
Floored. Across this season’s carpet,
Debris of former lives lived and dispersed and
Fallen. Fallen in place. To take the space recycled once more.
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