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Bring Me a Poem


Bring me a poem from somewhere, bring me a poem well done.
I hope it’s about the woman, folding her shirt in the sun.
Let her be standing and watching the fox with the crooked grin,
While saying, “Nothing’s the matter that cannot be cured by sin.”
She hands her shirt to the vixen, still grinning there in the sun,
Wondering why she bothers to do work that is never done.
This is a poem from somewhere, perhaps from the watercourse,
A poem no person can sing right, only the spotted horse.

 
  
Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #229

Autumn Leaves

 photo DSC_0215_zps87ax3rf2.jpg
Colorful aspen leaves, Lockett Meadow Campground, Coconino National Forest near Flagstaff, Arizona, autumn 2016.


 
~~ ~~ 1 ~~ ~~
 
tumult on my roof—
acorns and oak leaves thudding
till the storm is done
 
~~ ~~ 2 ~~ ~~
 
Since crowds delight you,
how can one falling oak leaf
give you so much joy?
 
~~ ~~ 3 ~~ ~~
 
Bring me one red leaf
from under the maple tree,
then leave me alone.
 
~~ ~~ 4 ~~ ~~
 
Such a waste of breath:
lamenting the leaves falling
from my backyard plum!
 
~~ ~~ 5 ~~ ~~
 
Two feral cats fight
among the falling oak leaves—
one gets bragging rights.
 
~~ ~~ 6 ~~ ~~
 
Blackbird, O blackbird,
how do you balance your song
on that falling leaf?
 
~~ ~~ 7 ~~ ~~
 
It is no great loss
to watch storm clouds disappear,
but when plum leaves fall…

 
Haiku © 2018 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #182
 
More Poetry Pantry #423 at Poets United