Alex Ward

when i was a leaf

i'd heard what the cranes say,
i'd heard the rough talk of
angels, when i was a
leaf, i was the most
loving.
when i was a leaf, i
was the most listening, mine, a
dry tongue in the chorus of
rustling, and within me was the
secret of
infinite green
houses.
and i bore butterflies, and
moonlight, and always i
rode with the others
on that sea, the heaving, solemn
out-breath, of my
dark, and mandrake.
tree.