We continue our journey through the Fall Season. So you are asked to write a “fall” poem.. You may be asking, “Walt, haven’t we done this prompt?” But, I want you to think of things that fall or have fallen. Prices fall (maybe not lately), leaves fall, arches fall, and both Saigon and the Third Reich have had their falls. Even things that drop or are dropped end up taking a fall. Drop a few words on falling. Don’t let me down!


33 thoughts on “FALLING AGAIN

  1. William Preston


    Mack Winters is friendly, a likable bloke
    but he often is gullible, ripe for a joke.

    In the telling of jokes, it is all about timing,
    even more so than humor, or certainly rhyming.

    For example, suppose that a pun must be told
    about snowflakes and snow forts and snowballs and cold:

    if you tell it in winter, there’s hardly a call for it;
    if you spring it in summer, then Winters will fall for it.

    Liked by 3 people

  2. yellow leaves flutter
    slowly downward toward the earth
    autumn parachutes

    Liked by 1 person

  3. The Last Leaves

    The last few leaves to fall
    From the trees land on an
    Icy sheet of snow where
    The wind scoots them back
    And forth.

    At first I thought they were birds
    But birds would fly away before
    They let themselves be pushed
    Around like that. Perhaps it is
    Not so good to be the last to leave.

    Few friends are left to mourn. Like
    You, they have grown crumpled and
    Fragile – easy victims for any wind
    That blows and so they hold on tight
    Until the blizzards’ blasting winds
    Rips the branches from the trees
    And all are lost in the furies
    Never to be seen again.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Falling Bodies

    Never mind fallen arches,
    falling in love, or snow
    descending to the ground.

    If you are an older woman,
    surely you have noticed body
    parts that sag, bag or sink,

    changing the fit of clothing
    you once wore with pride. Not now.
    Seat of jeans droops–you look

    for that perky bottom you
    used to have. Cannot find it,
    can you? Did those same jeans

    grow longer? No. You have
    grown shorter. A new layer
    of skin is plastered under

    your eyes. Wait, it is only
    an extension of lower eyelid.
    You look in the mirror, wonder

    if by next week, you will be able
    to reach the bathroom sink
    to look in the mirror.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. William Preston


    Spring training
    and the early games
    offer scope
    for high hopes,
    but when hopes fall in the fall,
    they wait till next year.

    Liked by 2 people

  6. Days of Cynicism and Folly

    I saw in her face
    the fatigue of long waiting,
    a blank gaze, a shut-in lost
    in misplaced steps.
    Her thoughts trampled
    and stifled in the press
    of traffic noise and fumes,
    and she sat with her back
    against all weather,
    and a rattling cup with small
    coins speaking on her behalf.

    Liked by 1 person


    With white wings
    she falls from heaven.
    To whom will she be sent?
    wounded warrior’s heart
    waits for her?
    Wisdom guides her wings,
    she welcomes
    a willing soul
    who reaches out
    for help.

    Liked by 1 person


    I go to bed exhausted, bleary eyed,
    teary eyed before long and a strong sense
    that all is lost if this lack of slumber
    costs me any more grief.
    The sandman is a thief in the night,
    stealing the light in my eyes
    and casting a pall on my wishes
    for sweet dreams. It seems my affliction
    is a dereliction of somnambulist seclusion.
    Insomnia plays like a raucous rumba with my R.E.M.
    Narcoleptic fits are every bit as annoying,
    toying with my sleep patterns; a smattering of
    a tense tease. WILL YOU PLEASE LET ME SLEEP!
    But the Apnea sleep Nazi screams, “NO SLEEP FOR YOU!!!”
    So it’s true, as I lay me down to sleep
    in a heap and finally feel the heaviness greet
    my eyelids. The ensuing headache breaks and
    takes what small packet of napping it can.
    I’m not even sure I dream anymore, or if my subconscious
    mind can find the root causes for these nightly pauses.
    My legs twitch, as if an unscratchable itch is festering,
    pestering me to no end. And without warning, I buck
    and lurch, a search for a solution. A new sensation,
    I am falling while asleep; falling, asleep.
    The bottom comes too soon, jolting me to a new
    stage of awake with the ache that pulses around my eye.
    Off the floor to rise, flipping the pillow and trying
    to find an exit from this never-ending horror story.
    I go back to bed exhausted, bleary eyed;
    like I’ve always tried, expecting things to go differently.
    In any book, that’s insane.


  9. […] Rising – Falling Again – falling […]


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