It happens,
Right outside my window
Beneath my feet
Above my eyes
Maples arrive first
To the party
Owen’s river birch
opens golden arms
Young tulip poplar
yearning for above
Fourhundredeightynine butternuts
Twothousandninehundred crabapples
Sevenhundredtwentyseven chestnuts
Cut, rake, pile
The town vacuums
My neat rows
Make pickup smoother
Late burning bush
preens in sunshine
