Locust originally appeared in Rue Scribe
Nearly wide as tall
the locust tree dancing
on the hill waves a thousand
moss-green feathers
each one fifty leaves or more.
Clumps sway in rhythm
with the wind, not like
frantic pompoms shaken
at the game; more like
Aretha’s boa as it shimmied
when she took a bow.
-Raymond Byrnes
Recent work by Raymond Byrnes has been read on The Writer’s Almanac and published in Third Wednesday, Shot Glass Journal, All Roads Will Lead You Home, Typishly, Split Rock Review, and numerous other journals. He lives in Virginia.