Carl Leggo


the alders grow transparent

as light stored in leaves seeps out

shadows are spelled or dispelled,

everywhere, a marbled lime swirl

I will gather scraps of words for

a patchwork quilt to keep me warm


on October evenings on the patio 

with cranberry tea while geese call 

the rhythms of elsewhere, earth and

sky yoked by tethers of light

like a meadow of wildflowers

on the littoral edge of the sea