“Autumn Tangle” (1920) by William Henry Holmes
Foliage
by W. Wayne Lin
You are everywhere.
The hedges I can reach,
the sky blocked by your branches.
I walk, I drive.
I want to catch first drop of dew.
I want to see more of you.
You love to surround the pond.
This morning,
you check, you look.
A little red here, purple there,
with the matching shirt,
and you never forget to don
your orange-yellow skirt.
Staring at the mirror of the tranquil water,
you sense the replica of your creation,
praying for Venus’s help like Pygmalion,
or Narcissus, in love with your
own self-image.
I go to bed early.
Tomorrow,
I want to see,
how the first rays of dawn,
talk you into
putting on
daubs of golden honey,
and the dusky sunset convinces you
adding maroon and burgundy.
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