No one will ever study these lines
As I studied the Great's in school

Chaucer competed I think
With nine other folks who could light a line
And a couple thou who could read one

All the people alive in Chaucer's time
Are less than the number
Of poets writing today

Those fat roots
We trillion leaves
Fall unread

So write
your light
right for you

I don't actually
exist
fluttering

Colorfully
to the ground

in fall sunshine
onto green grass

becoming suspended
on their blades




Copyright@2019 Dennis Willis