The leaves paled and fell
from the shedding trees like old wishes.
—George Garrett
We call them leaves in honor of their brieffrom the shedding trees like old wishes.
—George Garrett
and delicate departures. Compare them
to the body in traumatic convulsion,
moaning, leaking; the crushing
circle of the loved ones gaping, the squalls
soon after; then the struggle over the true
remains, battles over Post-it notes,
a swat team of lawyers brought in
to blowtorch a strongbox and referee;
the all-consuming ordeal of a single death.
The daughter watches the attendant wrap
her father in plastic before he's zipped in
like a thing. The gurney slips swiftly out
to the alley into the unmarked van. The trick
is to make it seem as if we vanish.
We do, but not cleanly, not as simply
as the brown leaf a breeze unfetters,
a palm-size kite teased home.
