Published on

a sickle voice

Authors

The Poem

a sickle voice cuts slowest
—I tumble like grain—
as the leaves that hang lowest
shiver
as summer dies to fall

Commentary

I wrote this a long time ago—I don't even remember when—but I liked the way the words felt in my mouth as I said them. I've included it on this site in an effort to achieve some level of completeness.