Idly, a single leaf falls,
Lazy in the arcs it traces,
Down down down.
Idly, I watch,
Lazily letting the grief begin to seep
Down down down
But not quite yet
Arrived.
It will come in its time.
Living, dying: who am I
To stop what is decreed?
We are fragile, soft.
When the color fades,
Will we live again?
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