Fall

Alexander Zavarin 1954

Fall (After Rilke)

The leaves are falling, falling from trees
in dying gardens far above us; as if their slow free-fall was the sky declining. 

And tonight, this heavy earth is falling away
from all the other stars, drawing into silence.

We are all falling now. My hand, my heart,
stall and drift in darkness, see-sawing down.

And we still believe there is one who sifts and holds
the leaves, the lives, of all those softly falling.

Robin Robertson

The epitome of Autumn. Four sentences that say everything. Sadness of loss, the mystery of what is and what is to come, questions of fate, a deepening sense of frailty. That line, "We are all falling now." catches in my throat. Has loss ever been expressed so beautifully?