As if these leaves are no longer at home
this match is breaking away-–by itself
strikes against the wooden door
demands it open her eyes, already smells
from hair loosening around her shoulders
as smoke –you need more wind
and the sky to level out, clear this place
for the stones growing wild side by side
no longer feel your fingers kept warm
by gathering more and more leaves
to their death just to want to be held
as never before by the burning.
Simon Perchik is an attorney whose poems have appeared in Partisan Review, The Nation, Poetry, Osiris, The New Yorker, and elsewhere. His most recent collection is Almost Rain, published by River Otter Press (2013). For more information, including free e-books, his essay titled “Magic, Illusion and Other Realities” please visit his website at www.simonperchik.com.