Fell Words

The grapes

Don’t grow here

No more

Ever since

The rain stopped

And the ground

Got hard

They fell

One by one

Leaves

Slow

And graceful

Like ballerinas

With a whisper

On the dry earth

Sweet smell

Of red and purple

Gone now

From

What used to be

Crisp air

Now just

The faint

Smell

Of old promises

Of laughter,

Sweat

And a warmth

That went

Deep into your center

Just dry air

No

The grapes

Don’t grow here

No more

Ever since

The summer went

Away