Lineage

In late afternoon

When the library closes

and everyone’s still in the office

I sit in the sound of the leaves falling

like snowflakes

They descend from a long lineage

making space for new ones to follow

When the sun lights up the side of the tree

Signs of ongoing breakdown

concealed by the nature’s

most radiant colours

Become apparent

Hanging on to the tree

Leaves whisper to one another

warning of what’s coming

Their faces

Exhausted, burn with colour

Their gentle voices interrupted

when a pair of boots

crushes the bones

of those already below them

in the cemetery of leaves

never leaving

just getting ready to re-appear

***

Fall is the name

we give to the part

of the cycle when time comes

to make changes

to break the arrangement

to keep the lineage going

Look how much stress it’s causing

Something I’m learning from trees —

to make it new again

you must first strip