Fall Poetry by Domiana DeFelice

KINDRED

You passed a row of trees

every day in November

watching them thrash then bend.

And when only one was left

still fighting for her leaves in the wind,

she cracked her mouth open

and accused you of being so selfish

as to think that humans are the only ones afraid to die.

So you wept,

Apollo,

at Daphne's feet,

hoping your grief would grow her greener,

would harden her back to bark.

But she stood and crumbled,

not ashamed to watch you sob into her roots.

the first album of Films.

Lets leave it there.