Wednesday, October 03, 2007


I’m not saying you can go now. There’s a pattern of fallen leaves

on the rainy green. There’s a strew of leaves, and the biggest are the yellowest

- Banana boats. Fell out of the bunches in the branches: each consists of 30 green leaves and one yellowy leaf that’s about to fall. Leave the leaves, leave them to last without us and be their palette; crowds all fled inside.

There’s a sliproad with double yellow lines; waiting, wipers mop drizzle.

The leaf-fall is apparently unacceptable where it falls. A man wearing yellow ear-protectors and carting a blower tidies some of the leaves back under the tree. (this is called an “air broom” – some leaf blowers function either in this mode or in leaf collector/shredder mode with vacuum.)

    What jury? (he asked) Variation ivies,
    arrowy, squat; and still one spray of flowers

    unseasonably sang in the dense, big shrub.
    Why shouldn't I go? No-one else does.


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