in which wind-music flits

from each leaf curled

inwards on itself

to bushes struggling

to straighten

to ragged twigs

dropped on our

tripping path

with all the lightness

 

of disappearing

skin barely

bristling

a faintness

of air brush

petering out

as if a drum beat

slowly

fades away

 

 

 

Copyrighted by the author

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