Leaves

April sings warm through the
soft afternoon, pink air on my lips
that tune in my ear, you on my mind
A brook trickles over jagged rocks, I cross
crossing, balancing on sharp slippery stones.
happily stretching my foot to shore.

Now, I sit on a stone wall, sad
like Humpty Dumpty
walk miles rocky over wooded path of mud
skeletal remains of leaves left dead
to stamp, tromp, tramp on
soil’s brown hybridized with a tree’s innards,

wondering.

(C) 2019 Stacey Z. Lawrence, All Rights Reserved.

Published in Vita Brevis