when the wind clears a path
overhead. What we see
are the scales that it sheds
as it goes— spiked
like pods from the sycamore,
or shred into tassels
like wings of drooping
pine. Whose footfall
do you hear in its wake?
when the wind clears a path
overhead. What we see
are the scales that it sheds
as it goes— spiked
like pods from the sycamore,
or shred into tassels
like wings of drooping
pine. Whose footfall
do you hear in its wake?