Oration by Leaf

By: Frank Martin

Backlogged, behind the library,
Above oak bark yet broken
There’s our leaf.
Milton. Willy Shakespeare?
Achin’, tryin’ to make trochees touch?
Naw, just printing our something for class.

Cool summer shade, guardian
Of tranquil readers. “Holy fuck!
My stem broke off- now
I am falling – first – The day
Came!” Invisible autumnal
Sound of wind – the culprit.

And infinite interpretations on how
Really did the leaf fall? And So What?
Even just learning names, the leaves’

Author, can be tricky. Don’t
Read too much into vein lines.
Try being significant when

There’s springtime in Australia
Or better stories yet unread
Or grass waiting on the ground
!