Tuesday, October 13, 2015

A Trio of Micro Poems


Time's hands are on everything—

After the fall of a hundred Japanese
red maple leaves, winter dressed
the shins of trees in snow.


At a distance, he sees the sun slip
the circle of its yellow eye, open
and traversing a winter-cooled sky.


With dark creeping
like a suspect all across the city,
night's promised to mourn
in the powdered face of dawn.

2015 © Maureen E. Doallas

All of the above are found poems, their inspiration a recent TweetSpeak Poetry post "Top 10 Street Poems".

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