Thoughts and Leaves Falling

A writer’s kitchen, the kettle bottomless, the Buena Vista Social Club, cha cha cha, the keyboard, tap tap tap.

A writing kitchen, with windows open to the world beyond; bees pass petals, buddleia butterflies loll long tongues, spiders spin between twigs, the lime tree lays down leaves with the graceful turn of a dancer’s wrist.

And with those leaves fall these thoughts, faced with all that beauty beyond; this green life, this bright life, this teeming life, this fleeting life: faced with all the beauty of life, they fall.


©James Bruce May, 2014

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