Maple Leaves in Fall

One by one the crimson robes
and golden crowns are pixilating into

slow showers, some softly turning,
twisting in brief suspension

then gracefully pivoting onto grass
and hedge, the hopes and dreams of trees

offering. Spring growth, summer
gathering delivered to the heart

of wood. Faithful workers at day’s end
settle in to nourish grass. We rustle/kick

them into dance, smell the
honest smell of sky meeting earth.

Carol Casey
Latest posts by Carol Casey (see all)

Leave a Reply