The Last Leaf

Winter
is warmer than
indifference. Your glance
slides past me to the door. You stay
inside.

I drift
through certain half
deserted streets. Beneath
a hollow, haunted moon, I walk
alone.

No snow
will smooth this rough,
uncompromising ground.
Trees bow bare heads, surrender to
the frost.

Written for the Elliot hyper-poem, spearheaded by Gary Blankenship.

My Lhasa Apso, Max (The Wonder Dog) is 14.

Paws twitch—
he runs across
endless fields of long grass.
He only chases rabbits now
in dreams.