…and we planted and planted and replanted and replanted and mulched ,,,after the eclipse, the Solstice, the calendar’s progression ….
…and a leaf off the tallow, red, like Vermont here in South Texas!
It drifts while the fat moon to the east comes out of the gulf.
Lands on other leaves, surprisingly reds, in youth yellows, and in infancy: green.
The only tallow tree; an illusion, there are more, I see them.
After sleep, deep and dreamless, I see the moon in west, going into
Mexico, and there are more leaves down
I see another in its spin
earthward ….
On into January, the light winter, all the tallow leaves, red, and the ash
leaves, yellow and brown,
Piled up
Blown….
Excellent
Captures a feeling. that could on be captured in a poem