Falling
I’m aware of the irony
that the most beautiful time of year
is when the leaves are dying, just before they fall.
These are the colors I choose to wear.
For a moment I’m surrounded by red, green, gold
Is it a week? Less than that
before the rains come, washing them to the ground.
One strong gust can change things.
This week three friends and I sit waiting
for biopsy results, numbering the days of our lives
One strong gust can change everything.
This story was published in The Cotton Thread — weaving life with words. If you want to be a writer in our publication, click here.