Track #7 – Last Leaves To Fall – The Zen Of Losing

in times of great stress i find myself scouting out the high branches. subtle shake or sway.

Trouble comes that way.

 

And a stubborn thatch of leaves left, high above the lake.

 

Past due. As was I.

 

Things dissembled. That’s how it felt. Unhinged, de sprocketed, unwove. I remembered feeling wide eyed a lot.

 

And the days long. Decades of a day. By this abstraction, one month took eons.

 

Endless Law and Order, staring at the lake. Check for messages. Watch the high branches.

 

i was securely fastened to my fate. I didn’t like it, but I got it. I dint loiter but I lingered.

 

Those leaves need fall before me.

 

They are still there.

 

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Track #7 – Last Leaves To Fall – The Zen Of Losing

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