ㅁ A strong wind tugged at the leaves of trees that hung there in the spring's night air, all fresh from growing newly, clinging to their branches, not wanting to go, but the wind pulls: a leaf shakes, wavers, flies.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Poem #647 “Starting to letting go”
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As usual, I love your new nonet. It’s something about how the meter interacts with the teleology in these poems that I find gripping. Nice work, again!