Three Season Sijo
THIS MORNING I watch autumn form, always coming all at once
in the acid of leaves—in releases of orange pigment. Burnt,
toasted, scraps of summer sun. Limbs naked when winter wakes.
THIS MORNING I watch autumn form, always coming all at once
in the acid of leaves—in releases of orange pigment. Burnt,
toasted, scraps of summer sun. Limbs naked when winter wakes.