like it always does

by Amy Turn Sharp

I would like to write a poem about how stunning
these red scattered leaves are on High Street
if I had the time
Because they are so red that they burn yr eyes for one split second when you look at them
the sidewalk looks bloody from far away they are so near perfect
like if you were to try so hard to describe red red leaves to a blind person
it would take so many hours and you would sweat when finished
and the stroller rolls right over them
and they don't make a noise
but you hear a low moan
announcing time has moved again
like it always does
that tricky bitch