Dodge and Speed

My first autumn poem of 2016. Summer wanes

Dodge and Speed

And I
will move
the branch,

crooked
and gnarled,
abandoned

by the aged
oak
as the wind

swept over
the autum hills,
from the path

shaded by grass
tipped
with a verdant

lace as delicate
as feathers,
so the mouse

that hears
the hawk’s cry
tear the air

in twain
can find its
dodge and speed.

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