Fall Shadow
a cobweb of leaves
kept breaking around,
smaller and smaller.
no cure for such wine-
hued deterioration, no glue,
they faltered to snap as feathers
fallen to pull me down into
their sticky lack of reason, wrapping me
in their shoddy cloak.
who i was was the leaves:
the wrinkled assemblage of such faces,
of scrunched chins and
waterlogged jowls and torn eyes.
a slither of the history of my shifting years.
they had become as huge
as a sea anemone which was as big as everywhere
my footsteps had ever tread.
they knew my smooth moves, my
flashy darts, the empty fear
behind my fish stare; and they knew
how to net me, to reveal the
mystery, and why.
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