By David Michael Jackson
Fall Leaves

It is
those reds and violets which are so sure of
themselves
as the trees take turns
catching my eye
and then force me to return again
to see the black and grey
branches
weave their spell
among the few sunlit
yellow
leaves which
are left.
It is those same leaves now,
those fall leaves,
lying
in the yard among the roots of the trees,
and that sienna color of the bermuda grass
which makes me
rejoice that calm resolute kind of
rejoicing which
sniffs the winter air for that
little bit of sunlight.

 


Fall Leaves Copyright © 1998 by David Michael Jackson, Originally published at Motherbird.com

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