Tuesday, August 13, 2013

A Catskills Girl

After the storm,
apples pave the grass
and famished deer
migrate from the woods.
Their sense of smell drifting
 with fog over the fallen fruit
while tree stumps
expose their bald wood
behind  a  wire fence. Patiently,
 they wait like shoe forms
to fill the soft leather
of frost-worked leaves,
but the season isn’t ready ----
Autumn still travels barefoot;
a shawl of sumac
pulled over her  sunlit hair
and full skirts of wind
muddied by the warm stir of water.


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