Each Year
Leaves fall like words on a page, punctuations in time.
Summers passing, flights of geese, the loosening of ties.
Orange ambiguity leaf and butterfly fluttering.
One to fall, crinkle and wither, the other freedom and flight.
Leaves fall like words on a page, punctuations in time.
Summers passing, flights of geese, the loosening of ties.
Orange ambiguity leaf and butterfly fluttering.
One to fall, crinkle and wither, the other freedom and flight.
Leaves fall like words on a page, like punctuation marks in time, so autumn becomes a way of reading the passing years. Each summer ends, geese migrate, and things that once felt firmly tied begin to loosen. There is a gentle sadness in that letting go, but not only sadness.
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