A stew of leaves and cones and seeds,
starry yellows, pear shapes, gold coins, torn hearts
flock against the fence,
a tumble of color.
And when the trees are bare
with nothing left but
stemmy remnants
tight frozen by an acid wind,
all that’s left is what we made,
cracked concrete,
patched asphalt,
power lines,
potholes,
gravel.

 

 

 

 


Julie Wenglinski

JULIE WENGLINSKI

Julie is originally from St. Louis and moved to Titusville, Florida in 1964 because her father worked for the space program. She has paid her debt to society by working 30 years in IT and now resides in Richmond, VA. She has had poetry and flash fiction published online and in print in Masque & Spectacle, Star 82 Review and in Puff Puff Prose, Poetry and a Play.