a choir of leaves
makes the unseen known with soft
but forceful deep sighs

the wet, dismembered
marionettes jump up and down
on the pulled clotheslines

a herd of cotton
treks hurredly across the
blue sky darkening

a lulling dance of
blurry shadow tree limbs on
the wall leads my dreams

Poetry by Patricia A.

Editor’s note: I am quite pleased to present Ms. A’s work here. Her commentary on many of the local blogs has marked her as a person of intelligence in perception. Now she is revealed as an artist.