as if drawing his
lost leaves back
up to naked
branches
the maple’s quiet
silhouette pulls orange
silk from a waking
horizon
pauses here
with you on the cusp
of dawn then with a single
cardinal bursts
into a fire of song …
as if drawing his
lost leaves back
up to naked
branches
the maple’s quiet
silhouette pulls orange
silk from a waking
horizon
pauses here
with you on the cusp
of dawn then with a single
cardinal bursts
into a fire of song …