Leaf and Grass

The diffuse light of a dimly tuned microscope
shines through the veined curtain of a lone maple
leaf. Here there are graminoids, wet mounted
to the earth in shadow form. Dew tips
the blades of grass behind the fallen foliage.

Beneath the optical instrument, blades
become helical, unsharpened. The verdant aggressors
of summer give way to autumn's repose.

This leaf is gentle, not yet curled by death.
In the interim it cloaks the field, a cover
slip so fragile that one wind or wash
could spirit it away.

By Jessica Varin

Jessica Varin

Jessica Varin is a poet, a fact-finding fiend, and an avid explorer. She believes that poetry exists for reasons higher than art. She writes to illuminate and change the world.