leaves – haiku and other animals

in leaves
before the storm
the sound of the storm

With my head on the pillow trying to read these lauded sonnets I’m off between rhymes to a bright cafe eating an omelet drinking wine I never drink wine

wind twists the long leaves that other color underneath

the effort, with red leaves finely pointed, rapid heart

splinter

from beyond the massive wall our simple ancestors adored born to be on the back of a truck falling off into dirty hands while the sun lies to itself about a song that puts the world back in shape buried under plastic leaves

syllables of old gods acorns through oak leaves

my name in a woman’s tight hand yellow leaves

in the darkened window my ghost leaves fall

the goldilocks zone of regret the factory of leaves leaves

bright morning
shadows of falling leaves
on the blinds

the little well by your clavicle—
leaves falling already