Fragments of a Poem

October nights of wind and rain pull leaves
away from branches where since spring they've clung
to life. . . .


October nights of wind and rain pull souls
like leaves away from branches where since spring,
since they can remember, they've clung to life. . . .


The rest remain, awaiting their turn to
let go and fly into the night, into
the swirl of wind and rain in October. . . .

A little over a week ago, my brother-in-law and I stood at the graveside of our wives' grandmother and talked about how now that we're the age we are, we're going to be finding ourselves more and more at gravesides. As if in fulfillment of prophecy, another passing took place in the small hours of 17 October, and a day or two from now we'll go through the ceremony again in memory of our wives' stepfather Landon Davis.