A pretense of azure,
Happy summer skies,
The somber clouds do part an inch,
To allow for mischief.
They’re tremulous today,
Bent and acquiescing,
Succumbing in dignified solemnity,
But do I catch that one quivering for release?
Or this one, in crowded space,
Chocking in the emerald, thronged,
Why, the guilt, I now wonder,
Can I find me in there, somewhere?
Oh look, a ginkgo leaf hesitating like one charmed,
No webs, no venation,
Just plain and simple.
A marvel.
At last I found the leaf that was me,
Upon the sidewalk, stalling,
Like one in young love, chasing pretentious sunshine,
Into scattered shadows, and then back again.
