Another October comes
like a release, like a relief
from the scorching sun under which
I stay put in place
joined from the tip of my head to the
branches of the tree I am
supposed to nurture.
I stay fixed and burn and let them
feed off me.
In October, I turn orange.
I let go and I am free
like the fall
I fall and meet those
like me
under the feet of drowning people
who are fixed still
to their branches
just waiting
to be let go of.
But here, this October,
fall free with me.
Comments