Poem Hunter
Greasy Fall Leaves, Part 2
KJM ( / )

Greasy Fall Leaves, Part 2

Tapping toes to tinker reels
and whinging babies the railcar urged
to the south, a sick dog,
and lost pace on the rain heavy leaves
the leave laced irons sticking us with
a nature of devilment clear from Dundalk to Dublin.

Girl clasp my hand as we shuffle down
these trip-stone streets, make me under
your class umbrella
and I'll wander for days
or until your camera sings its dirge or
the damn sun yawns again

bleaching the rip-tide streets that
just a click ago we strode up under
your gas umbrella.

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