The Pugilist Looks at Leaves
Most evenings find her at the town summit
a spot by a plaque with a bench
on a train trestle facing west
tonight she watches the leaves
in grand arpeggiated arcs
ferried by an operatic breeze
rain darkens the tree trunks
to sword silver, exposed steel
biological indifference to fragility
between two trees a spider flings
bright filaments that catch a leaflet
transfixed, suspended, and incandescent
the tracks cut through a hollow
where the day ends first
no trains for decades
tracks to nowhere carry ghost cars
with ghost women and ghost men
who catch sight of a shadow on the trestle
briefly a woman, then a shadow again
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Nicole Zdeb is a writer, visual artist, and astrologer based in Portland, Oregon.
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Stone Poetry Quarterly 