Loose Leaf

As soon as it’s organized,
Winds whip my world away.
Maybe it’s something I’ve said –
No, this is what I meant to say.
Storms grab my boughs and shred
Them on the ground.
I smooth out the folds,
Sheets tied up and bound.
But none of it holds.
Year after year the sheaves run,
And I open and lie down.
Loose as any leaf,
Stripped of everything I’ve done,
Filed beyond belief, I
Can only add another style,
And turn again to sun.

July 7th, 2019
April 25th, 2025, Kaiholu