Before they fell they waved like flags, the leaves,
and as they broke, there became a lovely order
to the dying.
The water spider moved
in no hurry at the bottom of the drained pond.
Everything seemed as it should.
Because I could
I even spent a while throwing apples
at a fence post. Over and over, my arm hurled
the poor things farther and farther
from the tree that had released them.
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