6,141 Readings

In the Neighborhood of Burning Trees


the smell of fallen maple,
frost and saw-
dust, after a little
a hurricane, leaves
left are burning in the
the dappled spokes of
a low-angle sun—
after a little hurricane
of blue smoke—
the smell of fall and
maples burning—


     not because Palestine is                   [still]
     burning did the poet
     shuffle into the park.

     not because
     Jerusalem burns                               [alive]
     did the poet decide

     to memorialize                  [limbs hanging]
     the color of oak                         [with black]
     leaves in November                        [water]
     by calling them flames.
Posted 11/28/12
Comments (0)