“I wish I understood the beauty
in leaves falling. To whom
are we beautiful
as we go?
I lie in the field
still, absorbing the stars
and silently throwing off
their presence. Silently
I breathe and die
by turns.
He was ripe
and fell to the ground
from a bough
out where the wind
is free
of the branches
~David Ignatow
This Vermont Life 