As my language deteriorates, a steadier syntax is revealed. A tree dropping leaves of wisdom in my life’s autumn.

The verbs that remain are release, surrender, let go. The first person–that once grasping branch–now sets its objects free. They spiral skyward, earthward, held safe within some other grammar, invisible as air.

Would you like to know more about this story? I discuss it in Episode 92 of Structured Visions.