(Week One) Improvisation #5 of The Pastoral

of Janet Lewis's "Remembered Morning"

All goes on as it should. Out
of the window, the leaves
appear strangled as they change
with the season. The tree, from
which they fell, remains stoic.
He is not to blame. I hear the anger

of a sick moth on my window seal,
burned by its own desire--laments
his love for the air, and its fluid affairs.
The head stills, the wings droop
gently as a sigh. Outside, fall continues
to work. And all goes on as it should.


*Writer's note: I didn't follow the rhyme scheme as in the original work. I tried, but I felt too pushy. Maybe next time, oui.