Memoirs of the Sire Bird: Falling leaves
I only appreciate the freshness of the air after one satisfyingly destructive drag of that dirty cigarette. Inhaling the concrete, breathing it out into nature and getting confounded by the head-rush of the juxtaposition.
It's always been a little erratic ritual after, or solution to, a particularly frustrating day..
On this particular day, I notice the wind- not as severe as usual, but persuasive enough to manipulate the leaves into a sway. They sway however, whenever. I get the sense that they don't care whether they will be able to whether the storm or decide to yield and drop, sort of like some of us who can...or like some of us who do.
Well, if I fall, I hope I land on the earth. Otherwise I cannot decompose and initiate my re-incarnation. My heart breaks when I look at the leaves whose fate landed them on concrete...
but then I remember the wind. The menacing, manipulating,malicious wind is the motions to the life of a leaf; that guarantee that all those fallen find their way back to the earth..
It's always been a little erratic ritual after, or solution to, a particularly frustrating day..
On this particular day, I notice the wind- not as severe as usual, but persuasive enough to manipulate the leaves into a sway. They sway however, whenever. I get the sense that they don't care whether they will be able to whether the storm or decide to yield and drop, sort of like some of us who can...or like some of us who do.
Well, if I fall, I hope I land on the earth. Otherwise I cannot decompose and initiate my re-incarnation. My heart breaks when I look at the leaves whose fate landed them on concrete...
but then I remember the wind. The menacing, manipulating,malicious wind is the motions to the life of a leaf; that guarantee that all those fallen find their way back to the earth..
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