MARKETING THE LEAVES

 

MARKETING THE LEAVES

                            for Kevin Miller

                    

           “It doesn’t happen except through individual leaves.”

             Jane Hirshfield, Radio Interview

And again on Tuesday,

leaves are mulched.

Years ago, questioning

my own practice, I put a call in

to County Extension

asking, Do some leaves

give back more than others?

I was encouraged

when the agent

took my question seriously.

There are raised eyebrows.

And it’s cold, but not freezing

everywhere. That’s my joke,

that’s all I got,

turning compost

one last time before Thanksgiving;

Thank you, too, Tom Waits,

Autumn winds have taken

that darker turn. You called it

in another song. If you had

your choice of leaves, which

would you harvest? Golden

leaves of birch, or dark red maples?

Hojas en español,

Pages in a book, hojas.

Last year leaves didn’t fall.

Local folk still bring it up.

Nobody asks me about failed crops.

Nobody around here even thinks

I’m a farmer. Leaves didn’t fall

when weather stayed warm,

then froze. I had no crop.

Leaves weren’t told

what to do. Didn’t grow

abscission cells, they act

like scissors, saying, It’s time to drop.

Leaves died instantly, hang

into spring. Not pretty

in your winter garden.

This year’s leaf harvest is good.

Mulch and compost, No leaves

in black plastic bags, nothing

picked up by the city.

Leaf poems as political action,

outing us all. Leaves as neighbors,

mine anyway, act for social justice,

breaths of fresh air,

like words, my community.

Jim Bodeen

7 November 2023