Unwritten

Leaves circle high

Flutter like wings

In tormented winds,

Unsure of direction—

Them and I,

One voice

In Fall's silence.

To go one way

And not the other,

A question of emotion

Or absolute direction?

Voices silent

In wind

And mind,

Lends to wander

Is it mine,

Or their design?

Falling,

In flutters and spiral,

Mimic the butterfly,

Or the nervous twinge

Through fingertip

And foot.

One with leaf,

One with fall,

Reminisce of family words,

"Good-bye."

"Good-bye."

"Good-bye."

The only definite

Stability in leaving,

As world changes,

Lending discord

To heart and hand.

Them and I,

One voice

In Autumn pause,

Their design,

Or mine,

Leading descent.