Tuesday, January 20, 2009

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