leaves shaped like teardrops and hearts
i hear one fall softly to its death,
to the graveyard laden with previous victims
in a never-ending cycle
of springing to life
and falling to death
it repeats every year,
and yet something feels different
from the last time
as if...
between you, and i, and us
there is something here
that wasn't there before
something dark,
like the messy black feather separated from its bird
something empty,
like the abandoned wasp's nest.
something loud,
like the plane flying overhead.
something cold,
like the dead bird on the sidewalk.
something...
unfamiliar.