Carapace Overturned

Tides and surf
Wash death’s remnants
Upon the shore

Autumn’s chill short days
Fell colourful leaves
To brown on forest floor

Nature makes no time
For funerals or grieving
In the cycle of life

Love and loss and mourning
Experiences of consciousness
Which is to say

When existence
Becomes conscious of itself
And learns to fear oblivion