Thunder and Leaves

We saw trees scream

and a rage of blue and yellow,

As thunder came forwards.

Arms thrashed in cannon-fire

for two whole days,

ceasing on the third.

The aftermath birthed leaves, endlessly,

We saw them on the streets.

Not the crisp orange ones

That you find in Autumn, but leaves

That fall on an anthill -

Shredded by millions of jaws

The ones that are now black pulp

Clogging gutters –

The not-proud, the dying,

The ones that require help the most.

We no longer waited for coverage TV

We knew, in person,

The leaves that people don’t want to see.

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Beacon of Hope

Fall Rose