The Goddess Baat

Portentous My pretty, breakable, expensive house is on the tree, hung from the lowest branch-- it sways as the kitten climbs up the trunk; the ornaments tinkle like sleighbells, poorly connected lights blink on and off, tinsel falls to the ground like red and gold rain, and the kitten, now down, walks over it, rustling, rustling; last night I dreamt of the leaf-covered man standing outside in full moon midnight light, the wind picking at the leaves, pulling them. I woke, went outside, to my knees, scraped up the leaves on the lawn, carrying them inside. I started stitching them together to make a leaf coat, but as I pulled the thread tight, they always ripped, too dry, and fell at my feet, kept falling at my feet, until they were at my knees. He still waits for me. Under every tree but one are fallen leaves.

Lee Tracy

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