A Whisper

Cordoned off my heart, a whisper
autumn winds swirling cracked leaves
reds and oranges and yellows
the damp smells of a winter prophesied
heavy gray clouds spilling tears
wet and fat and heavy.

Uneven drive, rutted by frost heaves
and knobbed roots from an ugly pear tree
elegant for a week a year,
but otherwise wearing the figure
of an anorexic, bony and lean
with an antipathy toward reason.

Wheel broke, mid-escape, maddening
a dented shin guard, foot impresed
evidence for an arraignment, uncivil
plentiful agitation, cursing every god
an animated torrent of blasphemies
indirect and solving nothing.

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