scrape of metal rakes
copious piles of red leaves
jump in and smell them
smell of burning wood
smolders into a new day
permeates the air
amidst the purple
clouds like spilled ink in the sky
then peach-pink of dawn
COEXIST: Poetry, Books, and Essays by Diane Vogel Ferri
I love all the sensory detail you packed into these.
ReplyDeleteI love what you've done here. This is very beautiful. I feel I am sitting in that pile of leaves right now!
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