Geishas of Autumn
The tulips have danced
and bowed, the daylilies departed
from single afternoons in the sun,
the goldenrod remains as stringy
veins without ore.
A breeze rides like samurai
through the oaks and maples,
herds of severed leaves gallop
across the sidewalk.
Before the goldfinches took tour
they drained their summer
plumage onto the ginkgo.
Beneath the temple of branches
a thousand Lilliputian geishas,
porcelain faces tilted upward,
patiently wait
for their fans to fall.
This poem first appeared in Umbrella Journal
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