From an Empty Nest
He watches each leaf
drop painfully slow,
parting the way two
hands shaking let go
after a final embrace:
one remains
outstretched, silent, and bare;
the other strains
and falls away
by sailing outwardly
through seas
of dubious air quality.
He knows this leaving
is natural: leaves
must fall for newer vistas
just to tease
the hairy sky; and he
must trust the bole
that memories of spring
will fill the hole.
from Autumn Sky Poetry DAILY, September 29, 2016 — by Gregory Palmerino
photo by Christine Klocek-Lim
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