bliss station ~ poetry

laminar

it is easier to keep track of the sun
if I saw it rise in the morning.

I see a cluster of leaves fall, their laminas turning
their backs to the sun, only casting carnivorous shadows.

one tears away from the rest, the remaining drop
in the gutter in a bunch & I feel something

poetic about it, a metaphor in the making -
do bunches go in the gutter?

is it better to go into the gutter in bunches?
does it not matter if it's a gutter if you go in bunches?

am I the solitary leaf that broke away, the wind separated?

maybe it's just leaves falling in a way
you're not supposed to see.

sun sets, CCTV on the lamppost blinks
blue red blue red.

I hood up, I use steamed rise to seal
the envelope of me.

no more adventures like crossing
a rain-battered road
in a saturday twilight.

~Ajay
13/12/2019