The ground is the hardest clay Groups of limbs follow its path Huddle in the sun Knees hidden, ankles astray Plot on how to tiptoe along cushions of leaves.
The coolness of the air. Our fragile, brittle breaths. Warmth is a supple sound Moving through fallen leaves.
Catching fall in the act. More Images here.
The leaf blowers start. Smell of gas fills the air. Mounds begin to form. There’s stragglers. Spots of yellow and orange Upon lawns watered To a suspended green During the black and white Months Of summer. A few flattened in driveways By the press…