Timothy Matthew Green
already the leaves are changing
as they do, first spat of red at the tips
roiling downward--a bloom,
a blush, an ameba
the leashed moon trails its maker,
sheds its silver skin.
you could set your watch to it,
keep time forever on your wrist.
in the corner a flash-figure like
a subliminal message, coming
and going, a candle-flick regularity
if not intensity--or did you only
blink just there? with the sound
so low itís hard to tell, so much
one leaf dropping swift
like a rainbow, like a childís
first sight of blood. am i
really made of this stuff?
the child says, holds up a wet
finger. if the blood runs dry
will i blow away, too?
Date of Birth:
June 4, 1980
Rochester, New York
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