Sonnet for Dry Leaves
Like ungulates on the Serengeti,
leaves gallop in herds across the empty
lot, carving uneven arcs through the air.
Straight October winds lend velocity,
acceleration, lift, fluidity,
and I imagine myself in midair,
high above the plains, observing frantic
herds of bushbucks, impalas and dik-diks
breaking around acacias, they scramble,
moving as if of one mind, erratic
turns punctuating smooth parabolic
leaps as they evade some unseen jackal.
Leaves skitter across asphalt, sunset glare
glinting gold as they fall still by the wall.
— Laura Eleanor Holloway