Dust from <br />dancing clouds <br />stains my <br />mouth and nostrils <br />while I rake <br />these fallen leaves— <br />a thousand skeletons— <br />broken petioles, <br />empty veins, <br />dry blades— <br />yellow, <br />saffron, <br />and <br />brown <br /> <br />Then I spit<br /><br />Jeff Gangwer<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/raking-leaves/
