Claire's poetry corner | Aug 27

Leaves Gerald Stern He was cleaning leaves for one at a time was what he needed and a minute before the two brown poodles walked by he looked at the stripped-down trees from one more point of view and thought they were part of a system in which the dappled was foreign for he had arrived at his own conclusion and that was for him a relief even if he was separated, even if his hands were frozen, even if the wind knocked him down, even if his cat went into her helpless mode inside the green and sheltering Japanese yew tree.