leaves – haiku and other animals

never with anything to show for the veins of leaves lost feathers of the long day and those thin bones from which perhaps flutes but now I have broken my own rule and as you see the birds die

To Cross the Sea

Bubbling on the stove warm nonsense on TV I misspell the important words of other people’s stories on the line nothing drying my legs sore the floor somewhat spotless what else to binge nothing stops this war

should have had iced coffee but trees start to stumble the hot earth becomes I tell myself breathe look at the leaves completely still August 30

at the end of the day whisky cicada hit send a cool breeze down that road in any direction you end up laughing

our secret obscured by a thousand legs under leaves

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