autumn in poetry

we are all leaves
falling from a tree
when we are born

our lives are not
the times when we were green
when we were
safely attached
to some nourishing branch
our lives begin the moment
we separate
thus begins the span
in which we actually
are

our lives are the stretch wherein
we tumble on
the twisting winds
we stumble
'til the end begins
when our bodies hit the earth

where you come from
or what you think you've done
don't matter as much
as if you can handle with grace
the fact that life
is a call for dignity while falling on your face
that's what it is
that's what it's worth

we don't have
one one-hundredth of the control we think we want
we don't have
one one-millionth of the control we'd actually need
we're all just falling through
no need to pretend otherwise
no use in brags
no point in lies
we're falling all
we're falling

but from a distance
falling leaves
are so fucking beautiful
it could break your heart

and it will
for a little while