A Poem for Obama
(written back on Nov 5th, 2008)
November Spring
One turns, then another
And another, leaving
Swathes of country hung
With canopies of red
Until capillaries deplete
Becoming paper-brittle
Dropping palmates increment
A tinderbox of hope
Blazing clear a plate blue sky
Today, under tributed precision of limbs
Beneath hard-coppiced charnel woods
Uncoils green light of Spring
© PJ Nolan 2008
