Fallen Pieces

An accelerated pull, or a pushing forward, disregarding the existence of brakes.
A collapse into fallen leaves and twigs.
A slow pluck of fallen pieces.
Looking up into the sway of the trees, between a glimmer of light.
Dodging, swerving away from becoming a future target.
Do I rise and escape these fallen pieces?
Or do I bask in the moment and let them consume me?