Springtime from my window I see / Autumn’s yellow leaf on a maple tree / Dangling in the breeze. / Veiny. Golden. Anomaly. / Like a deflated balloon — old fun-time memory. / Leaf, I pen odes in an era when odes don’t quite belong. / As long as nature allows, like you, I keep hanging on. ❤️😊 Published in WestWard Quarterly Spring 2025
Jones Summers Books 