Morning Colors
Fall leaves fall red
and the ground takes it
I once took a bullet
in my spleen to prove a point,
the kind you take to Floyd's Pawnship.
Get a couple bucks for. Maybe trade,
a cigarette holder from the fifities,
crooked logo of a hawk,
talon holding one of those fish
you see, arching from a hobo's
hooked hand as he draws it
near his mouth.
by Aaron Cohen
copyright 2007
Do not reprint without permission from the author.
