I say about leaves
nothing
I’m
thousands
hanging in
one,
composting on
of millions,
wet,
eaten,
churned to mush,
a leaf
of billions, trillions
the sunshine
First published in Uneven Floor
Proximity: the poet Jackson. Get uncomfortably close.
I say about leaves
nothing
I’m
thousands
hanging in
one,
composting on
of millions,
wet,
eaten,
churned to mush,
a leaf
of billions, trillions
the sunshine