His Given Breath
The cutting vision
in the rotted, lazy autumn:
an awful pile of leaves,
full of panic and wind,
coil and cull.
A storm in burnt umber
and pale ochre
culminates in rustling
clamor.
Fractals dance in pirouettes
while crackling in their
confidence.
They muster waltzes
and joyful jigs.
Soon they relent,
Scatter, and drop.
Feigned life fallen
in His given breath.
CM Logan (c) 2012
CM Logan (c) 2012
Read this poem and other's in my husband's book "His Given Breath"
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