Losing my marbled leaves
(the environment of dementia)
(Kirsty Stanley)

Another mottled, marbled leaf
detached, dropped and traced
its own vain veins in mud.

Mud squelches,
formed from leaves that fell before.
Mushy mud mind you.

Each tiny stem of the
booming, no
blooming, no
blossoming, no. Yes…blossoming
tree creates it.
Each lost leaf nurtures on, but,
there remains a leaf lost.

What causes the leaves to fall?
Age and time weaken the bough.
Ravage winds cause hidden splits,
once, landed a heavy bird,
a heavy load to bear.

Then sometimes it snaps;
Sudden and severe.
Silence in the forest,
as the tree is felled.

More often it floats away,
flying like the sycamore
on the breeze.
You see it fleeing toward
the horizon, watching it, knowing it
will disappear…

you can’t catch it
on the tip of your tongue.
Instead you poke it out and
down sinks a freezing, frosted
flake of snow that ices
the core.

The rings tell its age;
at 55 felled too soon.
It started with one
measly, mottled, marbled leaf.

This was previously shared in a more hidden way on this blog here.

Inspired to share this poem on the theme of Dementia after talking to @tommyNtour on Twitter.
Will be sharing this blog post of his with students tomorrow.
Also found out, again via Twitter (thanks @HISCfresno) about this film I’d like to see.