If most of
the leaves have fallen,
heavy clouds
and freezing temperatures
can change
the landscape
as if the
original debate
were between
the leaves’ fall
and the
snow’s fall
adds up to
another
winter slow to rise
on the
horizon
another dawn
slow to
echo
yesterday’s call
of the
fall’s crow
where in the
streaks of the
early
morning’s sun there is
the
semblance of a sentence
no more than
the noise of a caterwaul unleashed and
run at full
throttle over a
stone
surface lined with
age to point
in one
direction.
© cmheuer,
2013
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