“A leaf falling.”
The mossied bark breaks;
the buds that bloomed in springtime
detach, tumbuhling.
Soon, the cold winter’s white
will coat the forest.
“Hmm like, maybe, a fountain in a park?”
Flowering fount –
your bursts of H2O
bloom cold!
On stone, the copper pennies
settle.
“A cat staring out the window?”
The pointed ears that scan;
a tail-twitch metronome.
At the windowsill, she watches.
“One with 1-2-3-4-5 for the syllables!”
Fruit,
packaged –
plastic bags.
A shocking waste…
Bananas; apples.
Image credit – visitchurches.org
william altoft 