life: acoustic & amplified

poetry, quotes & thoughts about life

fall. falling. fallen.   

Fall, falling, fallen. That’s the way the season 

Changes its tense in the long-haired maples 

That dot the road; the veiny hand-shaped leaves 

Redden on their branches (in a fiery competition 

With the final remaining cardinals) and then 

Begin to sidle and float through the air, at last 

Settling into colorful layers carpeting the ground. 

At twilight the light, too, is layered in the trees 

In a season of odd, dusky congruences—a scarlet tanager 

And the odor of burning leaves, a golden retriever 

Loping down the center of a wide street and the sun 

Setting behind smoke-filled trees in the distance, 

A gap opening up in the treetops and a bruised cloud 

Blamelessly filling the space with purples. Everything 

Changes and moves in the split second between summer’s 

Sprawling past and winter’s hard revision, one moment 

Pulling out of the station according to schedule, 

Another moment arriving on the next platform. It 

Happens almost like clockwork: the leaves drift away 

From their branches and gather slowly at our feet, 

Sliding over our ankles, and the season begins moving 

Around us even as its colorful weather moves us, 

Even as it pulls us into its dusty, twilit pockets. 

And every year there is a brief, startling moment 

When we pause in the middle of a long walk home and 

Suddenly feel something invisible and weightless 

Touching our shoulders, sweeping down from the air: 

It is the autumn wind pressing against our bodies; 

It is the changing light of fall falling on us. 


Fall by Edward Hirsch

 In Fall I saw 

a skyline of tree roofs 

blowing off in 

natural disasters 

of Biblical proportions. 

Every treehouse laid bare 

roofs to be mended in April 

when surplus roofing supplies arrive 

from Mother Nature 

painted bright shades of spring green 

with all the colors of the rainbow 

adorning the mended windows 

as the birds move into their summer homes. 

All in the right time 

not before 

I have known days of the extreme

Both hot and cold 

Pain and joy 

Full and empty 

I have wsited for spring 

I have been healed 

like the trees 

Now I wait for the time 

when the lovebirds come build their nest 

in my heart 




Nature Photos by Fisherman Dan @ Branford, CT

Word art found on facebook


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