Written in My Orange Notebook

Another housecleaning poem.

Written in My Orange Notebook

Walking on the path I
thought I heard brittle light
footsteps behind me
I turned my head quick to surprise
whoever it was and
over my shoulder it was
a leaf
the wind blowing it
in a skittery pattern
side to side jumping up and swiping at the air
mischievous.
Two birds started up different songs at the same time
a harmony they hadn’t meant
with the sound of the wind blowing and the leaf skipping.
The sun gave the performance a hard-edged shadow
for the audience to appreciate
and I was the audience
for what was exactly right

Lady Looking at the Falling Leaves small

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