Caught unaware, staring blankly as the leaves made their slow descent, blood running cold as the wind picks up, sequins embroidered shimmering in the southern sun
Gathered in the rocky shoal, some braving the hard macadam to scatter and frolic, designing a constellation, the fall of
their empire pre-ordanied, as natural as the concept of time (there is none) repetitious and new
Can you read the stars, the tea leaves, the pattern of life? Is there a story to tell? What does fall mean to you? A spoon that dips into your life, stirring memories, dreams, the present unconscious
A simple pattern, with names attached, lives lived and passed, stars falling from the sky, can you name the constellations after your own mythology?