Autumn

Bleached in the sun
Brambled mess-
handsome and sterile
Tabletop
Stump

Our dignified summer dinners
Below, Underfoot
Belly up in the sun
Rot the foul roots
Open-faced caskets
But just laugh
We turn and sigh
“How late it is…”

Take the tiny tree in my bedroom-
The tree in my bedroom

Cut off all the branches
Cut off all the branches
Cut off all the branches
Cut off all the branches

Let them hit the ground
as weak leaves in the fall