FALL

FALL

by Robin Shwedo

©: Robin Shwedo, 1996



Fall –

even the name evokes such feelings of colors;

the being’s eye remembers

brilliant colors on mountains and hills

as the leaves turn

slowly,

tie-dying the normally dignified hills

into a late-life devil-may-care attitude –

as though,

after a delicate please-the-world spring

and a young then middle-age dignity of status-quo,

the aging of the year decides the heck with it,

and colors itself to please itself and,

in turn,

pleases those around it,

as if,

by finally being itself

– LOUD, BOLD and in your face as you please –

it takes our breath away,

leaving us with enough to think on

during the cold, white silence to come.



This is part of my collection titled Revolutionary Broads and Other Nightmares which is currently looking for a publishing home.