A Poetry Sporadical of Repeating Forms
A Poetry Sporadical of Repeating Forms
Maples are minus the red leaves that fall
Like drops of blood along the black path.
In the clip of cold wind from Montreal.
Wet concrete clouds were carrying a squall
That pounded for an hour, then passed.
Maples are minus the red leaves that fall,
Lone integers from the top of a tall
Square root. There is sadness in this math
And in the clip of cold wind from Montreal,
Spattering lost leaves down past a wall
Of green foliage, fresh from the rainbath.
Maples are minus the red leaves that fall,
Predicting hemorrhage by their scrawl
Of crimson equations. There is no wrath
In the clip of cold wind from Montreal,
Only sums of sun-slant, cider, college football,
Faint mockery. October’s totality subtracts.
Maples are minus the red leaves that fall
In the clip of cold wind from Montreal.
Toby Bielawski teaches writing and poetry at Las Positas College. Her poetry credits include Alehouse, Barrier Islands Review, The Wanderlust Review, seedhouse, and beyond definition: new writing from gay and lesbian san fransicsco, published by Manic D Press. She is working on her first volume of poetry.