Fontegaia trickles in...


Inching onset of autumn. Occasional
drifting-down of dogwood leaf. A surf
of mock-orange, over the fading fence -
fragrant galaxy, vagrant, precessional.

A reader of teasing leaves predicts a fall
(perusing a book, pausing in backward
yard)... somewhere homeward
(angled in wayward words). Furled

are the ferns in the brazen furnace
Danny burnt with his Boy Scout wood-
engraving kit, his rod of iron. You bent
the future (reader dear) with tenderness.

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