Metamorphoses
T Tom Billsborough
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Leaves become sparrows,
Sparrows leaves;
Metamorphoses of shadows
In the elders to the east.
Ahead the sun descends behind
A grill of tall ash trees.
Where on a single branch
The last two leaves splay fingers,
Downwards in surrender
To oncoming winter.
The sun slips slowly westward
Behind the tapered juniper
Studding it with stars.
And suddenly gives me
My early Christmas Tree!
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş