Fall Trees

The blond-ing rabble make a few flush ruddy

enough to shed hay.

Crowns burning like brand new copper pennies.

Some with flaxen weeping heads,

drumming fingers or knobby sockets.

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Spring Trees

Spring is like a post-wedding afternoon.

Branches brushed with bursting party poppers,

swooning mops,

dabbed and dotted with earlobes and cotton balls,

below bellowing blossoms and star fall paddling in the breeze.

 

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– Rachel R. Vasquez, October 2016

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