Autumn as Phoenix
Poem
by Cori Nicole Smith
Few sounds I abhor more than that of dried leaves scraping the pavement,
Crackling like amplified Rice Krispies or autumn fires,
Autumn flames, sending up what just came down
(Ashes of the dead Leaves)
Blow away to where they can become leaves again ---
To drift again every year.
Grating of metal rakes on driveways
Drive away the remnants in piles.
Lapped up by the starved blaze:
Exploring the mass
For the last,
Red belly of a leaf.
Autumn as Phoenix© Copyright 2003 Cori Nicole Smith, printed with permission.
