Friday, November 11, 2016

autumn blossom octet

garden spider stockstill in rhododendrons
long since gone past; bee haunts the white camellia

down the avenue; rough cat’s ear inches up
yellow, scrawny afterthought taking root at

that intersection under a sycamore;
empty park where desire dissipates in light—

thursday’s suburst turns the sky invisible:
in this brilliance death flowers inside my chest—

Jack Hayes
© 2016

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