Poetry

ellen ‘windy’ aug lytle

leaf

a leaf floats between
two birches

the field is shocked:
its lofty manner
its deliberate
slowness

maybe its jealous
of the dance

she watches the moment
go by as if its on fire

such haste
such ferocity

he watches her
watch the moment
then grabs his own

together they might
stall a twilight

love, alone

love alone sees both her men crack,
like humpty dumpty falling off a wall, yet
deep down, where no one else looks, she’ll
locate the dot in the nook, where love still persists-

the gift now is to see them clearly, sweet
as they once were, though autumn always had
a back door leading to a poached afternoon sun-
but, in the dappling dusk she still smells long island

the way it once was, unlike salt water in a city bucket

still she loves the old bleecker st where leaves
lightly toss across the bald stretch ahead, showing her
poetry blows to bits in a chilly breeze that imagines love,
such as it is, in old age

yet its at night in the brooding dark
that it sinks her, w/out place
and w/out words, delighted
she’s robbed of herself

ellen ‘windy’ aug lytle is a poet/journalist/fiction writer and painter living in nyc and for 45 years in Vermont too! she adores every Animal, children, ‘underdogs’ and the #1 train currently she is dealing with two publishers for books which would incl.75-100 poems mostly from 2013- 2020/ her poem ’still august’ is poem of the month (october?) from Coffee Labs Press/ coffeepoems@writerscenter.org