Sequin

    A youthful bandit
this forest -
faltering eyelids in mud troughs
& puddles like
brisk lies
woven thru deception.

Stealing autumn into
its colours,
leaves in birchbark rustle
a full mauraud stealth
across every breeze.

Thief, thief
elf with a key,
a thousand rasping angels
their throaty javelins
hurled from branch's edge,
brief pageant robbing
summer's pantry.

Offal of the fall,
the lake a sequined glove
tossed from a careless hand;
a rowboat as a buckle
chromatic foam
for a finger's fan.

Paul Cameron Brown

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