Muddy Hymns in August

The sycamore sheds its skin
in peeling strips of curling bark,
offering pale patches of pewter.
A heaping platter of leaf and limb.

Cottonwood trees twinkle tall.
When the wind plays hard
and limbs fall,
the goats have a feast-for-all.

The monsoon wind smells
of damp sycamore leaves
and wet dust
as it rumbles past.

 

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