it fell, beautifully, heavily, from the night sky,
caressing life as it waited, patiently, idly by.
it fell, only to remain suspended in mid air,
not knowing how, now knowing where.
it fell, and it kept on falling,
carefree, with open arms, and no true calling.
earthed by the sudden pull of gravity,
by time and its limited longevity.
then there were angels, balls, and men,
satisfying peacefulness, quite like Zen.
because grass is whiter on the other side,
in a playground right in the middle of Park Hyde.
but now, slow motion movement through the cold sun,
of patches, remnants, and a shadow where there is none.
everything is back to the way it was before. melted.
and as he died, a little each time, I felt it.