Elizabeth Smither
A landscape of shining leaves
All the way from the airport the autumn sun
touches leaves. They are the dominant feature.
One leaf, one tree. Then they are everywhere.
Little blazing shields, little stalwart soldiers.
Morals that are so pure they blaze
the sunlight back into the air
like the moment a child masters
a difficult piece on the flute or the piano
or a singer strikes like a bird call
an evasive blurry note. When
all the moral deeds of human beings
(in a new sub-species of science fiction)
are extracted from even the weariest bodies
and carried to become leaves on trees.
