among
the scattering
of dead
leaves
there are islands of
green
even on new year's
eve
& even in the
clump
of
maples
every branch
a fine
etched drawing
stands against
grey
skies
ambiguous
&
overcast
not hopeful & not
hopeless
it makes no sense
to mull
all the possibilities
like a solitary
exercise
sophistry ain't
necessarily enlightenment
yet
to follow the
sun
when
it actually rises
might be a
beginning
--- e b
bortz