Here in the North, leaves fall through light
And leave last dry scattered whispers
Along the earth.

Lives fall like leaves,
Out of season some,
Torn by storms too soon
From shuddering branches.

I remember them.

Lives fall like leaves In autumn.
Some rain fire,
Some rain sparks of sunlight stored
Like gold to illuminate the cold air.
Some simple leaves surrender
To the tone of earth
They are becoming.

I remember them.

I hear the hope that we can meet
On the marigold path,
In candlelight and songs and stories
And your favorite flavors.

I love the sweet creek-side aroma of leaf mold.
I inhale the soul-side perfume of your years,
Scarring and nourishing mine.
And you remember me forward
Through a new season of leaving:

Greening, falling, perfuming,
Traversing the holy marigold-petaled path
In candlelight
To new songs and stories
And favorite flavors.