Day 1 - Like seeds like feathers we leave.

I know just how they fall, spinning
like it’s the best moment of their lives;
When they can float so feather-like
and dream of existing as free.

From those seeds on the trees to the weeds
underfoot I can feel the spots I have
fallen - like them - nursed by the earth
to health only to fall again.

I’ve left that divine gift, ungraceful but
so grateful; it’s the black silence I miss.