Wet Leaves

by A. A. Manzoni

Wet leaves
glistening
on the pavement
in a late Autumn rain.
Shining shadows in the streetlight.
Bike tires rolling,
car tires speeding.
The road,
it seems
to be flooding.

The wind,
it is whipping,
howling and whispering.
It stings
the eyes
and blinds
those on the move.
An acute ocular stunning;
casting you ever
so close
to the wet leaves gathered
at the far side of the road.
Take heed
and don’t listen
too closely
to the wind.

The birds,
seagulls and ducks
and scavengers
are in flight adrift,
spinning 360s
in a desperate bid
for their tenuous control
of the air.
Trying not
to meet
the same ends as their friends
on the ground,
splattered roadkill
rotting in a final state
of obscure decay.
The birds might be better off
keeping to the air
for as long as they can.

Wet leaves
laying,
completely unfit
for praying
or any other
theological past-times.
They will be staying
until someone gets around
to raking the whole mess up.
The road,
it seems
to be clearing.

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A. A. Manzoni is a 28 year old writer of poetry, horror and sci fi from Newfield, NJ. In Dec 2013 he finished his first book, an untitled short story collection entitled, “From NJ to Hell” and is working on a new novel as well as a book of poetry.