“The Last Drops of Fall” JHH
(there is poetry everywhere)
not the type that breaks hearts
or shatters mirrors but it raises
hair all the same, licking dew from the
undersides of leaves, tracing steam
against the backbones of deer, skipping
fog across waters that have yet to wake,
fully content to leave the bigger things
that pull the world through the day
to the birds above and the people below.
LK
5