A Man Amid Falling Leaves Comments

Such a wonderful poem about fall.Like golden leaves falling away and nourishing new life, our time also flies and ultimately we become yellow leaves of nature

Of course we hear and see stories of death and they soak in and become assumptions, . But most inward of all is our fear of small loneliness makes us fear death's big loneliness.

I think it is like appetite: there are many visceral clues and clocks that tell us the body has a dark shadow body growing in it.

Galina's comment did not show up. She questioned how people know their time will end. Do they feel it internally, or from commonly accepted knowledge.

I wonder how people determine that their time is running out. Is this really some kind of inner knowledge, or just a suggestion caused by the usual course of things around?

Took me ages to find your poem, Denis. Worth the search as it's beautiful....

A wonderful depiction of fall with fresh and innovative imagery.