Teeth Brushed by Leaves on the Way Out
I’d like to speak sometimes
in Tree–
pronouncing branches
that catch, when splintering,
in your limbs;
or Dawn,
my words, enlightened;
detailing, without wooden exposition,
those branches held
in a crux of you.
Other times (though too rarely)
I’d speak
in Listen,
the tenses of bark
muted by that past, that present, that sweet
imperfect.
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A draft flash 55-word poem for the marvelous Hedgewitch’s (Joy Ann Jones) prompt (based on the flash 55 meme by the inimitable G-Man) on With Real Toads. Special bonus for a pairing. Not sure this qualifies! (Photo is mine–all rights reserved.)
This is actually from a much longer poem written today, with other verses, but maybe better to keep this short version! Hurrah for editing.
Speaking of editing, I mistyped the title on first posting! Agh!
ManicDDaily 
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