Falls

 

There are more leaves up there than you would imagine. 

They fall for a month – longer – and never stop. 

Thousands a day, and that should be the end of it, 

But thousands fall tomorrow, 

And Thursday, and on and on.

 

It’s a little like the moments of your life, 

Drying up and tumbling, with a rustling shower, past, 

In reckless profusion, uncaring, spent in the wind –

 

And still, after thousands and millions have flown by, 

You have a few moments left to survey the wreckage, 

Before the last leaves drop, and winter silence falls.