August Fall

soft crunches brittle leaves

stain streets, curbs

collected dirty laundry

wastebasket overflow

trickle down

each inscribed

a tale hung

hugging exotic grasses

upon great heights –

weaved among

hair

things

be regurgitated upon

or picked pressed stamped

into infinite memories

mulched

churned bloodstreams

condensed rebirth amongst

plastics and rot and plastics

that never rot

mulch into soil for seeds

carrying time

to emerge from grasses

pushing past brittle leaves