TUMBLING
My heart rests lightly
on this wind.
It dips and bobs
and lets go
tumbling in the passing light
rolling off the gradients
of the seasons.
Fragments of rainbows come and go
piercing time with beauty
– a reminder.
The leaves too, dance and let go,
and green slides off the hills
to settle in sheltered places.
Bracken turns quick gold
then long reds.
Air spiced with things losing names
becoming something else,
becoming earth.
The willows dance,
the poplars dance all silver,
the birches, gilded.
—
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