“in the street of the sky night walks scattering poems”
e.e. Cummings
October winds pursue
- the night follows quickly as I'm hastened home
by gusts, urging a faster tempo to my footsteps
A brown glass bottle keeps pace though
rolling down the gutter, noisy as a drunk
and on the corner, I pass an idle pack of leaves
- it comes to heel
and just as suddenly scatters
hurtling headlong, eager to separate
In their wake, some motley trails of paper
like struggling kites, each lifts and falls
and falls and lifts again
But one at least is scrambled, up and out of sight
then, as if encouraged by this lucky flight,
a plastic carrier opens with an enormous suck of air
balloons overhead, taking with it all the clutter
composing there
In the Imaginary Garden, Sanaa has invoked a line from Cummings’ The Hours Rise Up..” as prompt “On the Edge of a Starry Night“
PoetryPix 
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