'The Fall' by Accalia Smith
I used to wonder why they -
'across the pond' - would call it
As if suddenly September brought with it an ending
or some kind of tyranny, tending
to the fallen as if life had gone cool
and gone, or made a mistake,
or fell in love. Into a lake.
So often in our phrase we fall.
Spiral down, plucked by the winds hands
and blown far away across the lands
No longer gregarious green but ashen,
on-its-way-to-soil brown to be fashioned
anew, food for the worms, food for food
Some love the fall, it lifts the mood
some prefer summer for the fall has not come yet.
But to fall does not always mean forever, don't you fret.
Leaves fall to sustain life.
They are not tied to a cross, or cut with a knife
but fall into the wind to make room for the new.
For every ending is a beginning; like a shoe
it has a pair. They always come together;
brown leather with brown leather,
black canvas with black canvas
with rubber sole
that stamp and kick up the carcasses
strewn on the ground. lol.
How words make all the difference
to an action. It's The Fall.
The leaves dance down
turning in each others embrace
to enrich the ground.
I don't think that they just fall.
A solid soldier falls in battle
slaughtered like cattle
for a reason, with the words 'for a greater good'.
Without Autumn - 'The Fall' -
we could not have Spring - The Sprung.
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