Winter Sundays

a poem by Nola Thomas

Clarity by Michael South

Clarity by Michael South

Every day, you’re living another life

But I live a thousand


Watching the tail-swing of leaves dash in between spiraled oak trees

And swoop down in an abundant stir

Of leaves and gradual repertoire

Of incandescent thoughts, alongside blue bloods, incandescent leaves

Incandescent leaves



Incandescent trees

Ruminating and gravitating along winter Sundays.