A tree branch brandishes its silhouette And hides the stucco pattern, flourishing Across the wall. A leaf trembles in the wind. Pauses. Before its stem snaps and lets go Of the leaf. Impulses obligate an outstretched hand To snatch the leaf from wind patterns. Fingers grasp the loose foliage And dollar bills within the sameContinue reading “A Soliloquy for Dead-Ends”
Soda & Guns 