The Cellist

I am walking through a forest

There is a Cellist

Somewhere playing

Deep notes

Shrouded in a tangle of branches

It sounds like Autumn


The notes burst out in colour

Burning so bright and itense

Various shades of

Red, yellow, purple, black, orange and brown

They fly into the souls of leaves


The leaves in the forest

Posessed, transformed

Follow the Cellist’s lead

They drop to my height

All at once

I am caught in a flurry of leaves



I dance in them for how long  I do not know



The Cellist switches to high notes

The leaves obey

Lifting upwards

Swirling above my head

The sky

Blocked out by leaves

The sun shines through them

Producing art

I have no other words


The cellist plays the end of his piece

The leaves fall with a giant


To the ground




Author: Jack Bennett

Born in Torbay, living in Bristol. One day I will find the right words, and they will be simple.

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