All Poems

How I Ruined Spring

I’ve got some distance,
so I can tell you.

It’s Fall now
and all the leaves,

the only witnesses,
green then,

are on their way down.
Russet or gold, yellow

ochre. Spectacular.

Do they get enough time,
no. This isn’t what

they expected at all.
But, it’s awfully

convenient
for the well-meaning

guilty. At least,
they give me

something else to
go on about.

It’s Fall, let’s mourn
the leaves

and I’ll tell
the story next year,

when I’ve got
some distance.

Although, it would
be irresponsible

not to say,
be careful what

you try to save.
Hawks almost always

get their way.

–October 17, 2017

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