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—
TWO.
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.