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.