Lizy Hammond

Early in the morning
before the sun got dressed
in its regalia ready to work,
the phone rang to make another
count of the falling green leaf:
fresh full of moisture and luster,
a splendor more luminous than
the flower.

It wasn’t the first that ever fell green,
Two more had already been captured
by the eye, all green they fell to add
to the countless brown dried leaves
scattered under our watch whose
crunching song our feet sang, an
untimely moment, an unbelievable
scene an unfinished race to men of
good will.

Although not like the others that fell,
will soon be like them: all those the
ripper visited, harvesting their joy and
love and their all; leaving pain and hurt
and hopelessness behind, bloodless
wounds that would not heal for the rest
of our days before another visit, an
untold visit, once, to us all.