Fall

Fall

Simon MacCulloch

Now the leaf who was Lucifer, flaming in pride
With a wrench flittered off from the tree who was God
And a million bright minions spun down by his side
And collected in drifts. And the children who trod
On the crispy brown angels said “Let’s have a fire!”
So they swept up the legions and set them alight
And the angel-winged ashes went swarming up higher
Than house-top or tree-top, than pigeon or kite
And they danced in the breezes, with God far below
Till their blessing of those who had raised them so high
Made them pure; then they fell in a swirl with the snow
And they glorified God with the robes of the sky.

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Simon MacCulloch
Poet

Simon lives in London and is a regular contributor to Reach Poetry, The Dawntreader and Sarasvati.

Photography by Antoine Rault