EDITOR'S CHOICE - JULIUS HOWARD

FIVE FIFTY-FIVE
 
 Moon hangs
 like a wire in the sky
 above tree touched roofs
 of semi-detached houses
 while clouds become waves
 marking the passage

of afternoon into evening.
 
 
 Looking down upon

pale yellowish leaves

scattered on the moist green

not daring to dance against

the moods of a capricious wind

which casts away scraps of

discarded memories

Meanwhile, from an upstairs window,

a small red-haired figure

imagines these scenes in his mind

before writing them down on paper

hoping to make some poetry

out of all pictures he sees

on this bleak autumnal weekday.
 
 
 © Julius Howard