Giddy Up
The wind herds
the brown-paper bag leaves
pell-mell along the river of asphalt.
Gusts whip bare branches into a frenzy.
Mini cyclones scatter street rubble.
Flags whack poles with great abandon
and cloth lines bang rudderless into the clapboard.
Men with tear filled eyes rush toward shelter.
The sun still, and silent, lassoed by the herder
shines lemon ice upon the day.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2010
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