How could you forget and toss
Me to the roadside
Like a drippy newspaper on
The front lawn?
Kindling fire is difficult to
Keep burning bright
With an avalanche of spoon-like
Leaves scooping yawns!
March peels back pushy clouds
Like my wind-rioting blithe,
Believing-green peaks shutter
With suspender-like sounds
She’s quite the Verdi and Puccini
With her high C’s cries
After my gold-lace umbrella
Crowned your dawn!