POETRY: Setting Seed

By Laura Reinbach | BA English and Creative Writing, Stage 1

These, my mother’s leaves,

shivered from her crown

fall fragile, skeletal,

into the unknown,

still to her quickly moulting limbs

I cling – her child.

Yet my sibling seeds

soon lose their grip,

and in a sporadic cascade

disappear from sight,

inspiring in my germ the thought:

I am not long from my descent.

Night draws her veil

in a susurrus of sleeping breath,

rattling the boughs

until detached, I fall

from the edge of the world,

the only world I know.

Mother, I had thought you lost,

but you’d been waiting all along

to catch me

amongst your withered leaves,

and prepare me for the day

when I would begin anew.