Friday, November 2, 2012

Fallen

The haiku I posted last also inspired a longer poem. The haiku form is very concentrated - just a few words detailing a single moment. Sometimes it feels more needs to be said.

Fallen
A low mist of sky
hangs behind the shedding oak.

All wind has died.
In the lee of the tree
on this sunless day
lies its shadow
in golden leaves.

A little gust stirs them,
the ghost of what came before;
some hesitantly start to rise
swirling
then sink down again
murmuring.

They have fallen
and have, of their own,
no power to rise again.
###

A scene like that could have been mined for a dozen haiku. But even a short series wouldn't allow for the somewhat metaphysical feelings what I saw raised up in me (hint: look at the title again). Perhaps appropriate for this day, the feast of All Souls.

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