Three Poems; Falling

First Branch

Percussive drops drain these trees — Arbor leaves sing like cymbals

Dripping Autumn rains find rhythms all their own

Second Branch

Every leaf might contain a map - each vein and vessel an artery line to somewhere close - traversing root to trunk to branch to stem - pure electrical pulse: invisible communicated connected

Third Branch

If canopy was ground and ground was sky I'd T U M B L E from your branch and wonder why

for #writeout