a thin line

The yellow leaves fall slowly into the waiting river below,
to be swept away by time. 
The breeze oscillates, 
one moment warm, 
the next cool,

The line between two worlds narrows to invisible, 
life closer to death.

Pine needles fall like teardrops.

Golden light, the mixing of opposing forces,
illuminates the underbelly of the foliage lifted by fall winds. 

Translucent the forest canopy becomes revealing both it’s vitality and diminishment, 
tide together on a ever shrinking seem. 
through the lens of death life is only beautiful, essential, and poignant. 

Walking with a ghost like soul.
Love and loss,
Marry in the fall.