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Fall

There it is again
The feeling of sustenance drying up
Of self-preservation, of hibernation
I take what I can suck out of it
and bide my time.

The wind – relentless, frightening, alluring –
beckons me to come with
to take my chances
Whistles, as it blows past,
of a letting go.

I fear the weightlessness
the not knowing
– the fall –
the taking-of-chances.

Where I was once budding with promise
Eager and green and growing
I am now weary
Marked by life lived
Scared off by old tales
of those that came before.

Take the fall.
Whispers all around me
Darkness, thickening
Merciless winter awaits
Not enough light
to care for us all.

Morning breaks, bleak daylight
finds what is left of me
Something has shifted in the night.
I am alone now
Alone with silence.

As the November sun climbs higher
Soon to disappear out of view
I feel it
in every fiber of my being
Fall is not farewell.

It is a quiet celebration
A subtle defiance
A rebellion of sorts
A dance of life.

Some of us take the fall
so life can persist
slumber
sleep
rest
and grow stronger.
Fall is not farewell.

When my last string breaks
I take the fall
wait for the wind
and let me go.

Anna Elin Kristiansen is a reader, writer, mother and the universe masquerading as a human being. She makes sense of the world – and creates her own – through her own writing. In the evenings, she writes literary fiction and when inspiration strikes, she writes poems about the experience of being alive. You can find her words at On Mama’s Mind (http://onmamasmind.home.blog/)

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