Winter is almost here.
The sun still shines, but the leaves swirl downwards,
escaping the trees
that neglect to hold onto them.
It's so easy to just let go.
The trees are about bare now.
reaching for the sky. Bare, brittle branches
but clothed in fog
at dusk when the sun falls
5pm and it's midnight.
10am and it's dinner time,
but I'm drinking coffee and confused
and my spirits fall downwards
only to be gathered the next day into a tight bundle
of delicate leaves
as I look out onto a city of spires
and breathe in
as the wind whips fall away into the past.