A FEW LEAVES

 

 

 

 

 

Broad lines of clouds lay discarded

like fallen ladders

under a sky reaching into forever.

 

A flock of birds, specks in motion,

possess the width of an open horizon;

their sounds become absorbed

in distance.

 

A few remaining brown curled leaves

hold fast to gray branches; they rattle

the rhythm of an end, far from what was

a beginning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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