in october mornings
numb
purple leaves
drift down a little
more fluttering by
angelic winds,
but i could not trace which
node released them
nor the mother stems from
which they unlatched
their mouths
loosening their connection
isn’t it a heavenly scene?
something falling from
huge structure
uncountable,
unseen like god
and inevitable
and when they fall, they
descend
from the middle
of a population,
of hidden foliage in
a garden that’s
still breathing.