Wednesday, March 6, 2019
Interactive
Motionless
not a quiver
a red leaf
hangs in the air
suspended six feet
from the completion
of its fall.
I stare
breathless
enchanted.
Until my mind
seeks an answer
and my eyes find it.
The glint of
a spider line
in a moment of sun.
Magic and logic
combine
to make mine
out of thousands falling
this
levitating
leaf.
Bridget Harwell
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3 comments:
Wow. I'm all shivers. There's not a word to spare, or a word left out, of this taut poem. Magic.
And the title!
Whew.
Bam.
I need a rest.
Thanks, Aileen. I have just read your comment. If I keep at it I will have a poem with no words at all.
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