Among the hundreds,
     one leaf hanging.
Pink hibiscus
     flowers, just showing
the sun their red
     tongues, their pollen-blobs.
Morning sun, the
     most lovely: that angle

of the rays, and the dust not
     yet as risen
as it is at evening. The world,
     the hibiscus bush,
the city: cleansed by darkness.
     The light making
a communion of shadow and shine
     among the gathering
of leaves, branches, blossoms,
     cobwebs, feathers.

Among the hundreds,
     one leaf hanging.
As she runs
     in her business suit to the train
a woman is brushing
     her hair. Above the street

a single bird has come
     to sit on a wire.
Its silhouette, a comma,
inscribes a dark pause
     on the whispering sky.

From The emptied bridge.
This poem won second prize in the Karen W Treanor Awards 2014.