0
Penny Harter
Black Leaves

At dusk, rain begins.
A black bird flies into black leaves.
Rain enters the dry dirt.

I step on an ant.

Last night I could not sleep,
Something buzzed just under my skin.

Today a dragonfly lit on my arm.
Its wings were humming.

Startled, I brushed it off.
The wind blew it back into my face.

Last night I could not sleep.
Something buzzed just under my skin.

The black leaves of the tree are raining.
The black bird has disappeared into rain.

The ant is gone.

Buzzing is the same as humming.
I have no wings.

Green at morning, black at night—
Where are those leaves now?

The ant is in the dirt.
The dirt grows black with rain.
I cannot sleep in this tree.

Penny Harter

Постави коментар Blogger

 
Top