Lay for the Day 10th
A seasonal poem from the book of Praises.
The morello gives off light
as it gives off leaves,
revealing its ribs as days diminish.
Returning the sunshine owed, it papers the paving
it shaded with multiple layers of yellow.
A leaf at the end of a long
like the beak of the blackbird who whistles
in the cold his half-hearted rehearsal of the spring.
The sparrows who pecked its
early petals for food
and filled it with commotion, desert the naked eaves.
In dripping rain they huddle among buddleia.
Bare-armed in shining bark
by all but the grace of its armoured nudity,
it withdraws from none of summers flourishes,
preparing to bear on them the hard, delicate frost.
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