[A Note for J. Makepeace]
[Left on the "desk" of Joss Makepeace at Verisimilitude at some peculiar hour of the evening is a small folded note on parchment, handwritten in cursive with a fountain pen.]
The leaves are falling, falling as if from far up, as if orchards were dying high in space. Each leaf falls as if it were motioning "no."
And tonight the heavy earth is falling away from all other stars in the loneliness.
We're all falling. This hand here is falling. And look at the other one. It's in them all.
And yet there is Someone, whose hands infinitely calm, holding up all this falling.