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The Dangling Lead

A reflective, Fall verse.
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A leaf skittered in the sunlit wind…

hanging,

tipping,

a marvel, dripping.

 

Blasted forward one moment by a sudden gust,

then becalmed, and thrust,

utterly dangling there in front of us…

 

It angled so slowly down!

Bobbing and tipping towards the ground

like a soul whose way could not be found.

 

How like you and me, this dancing singularity!

 

We move forward through life's set motions,

Then careen into peace - sweet, suspended unprediction.

—— Albert Fried-Cassorla, March 1999

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