September 18, 2013 by northerncardinalreview
The redbud tossed a few leaves today,
not even a dozen, but tomorrow’s count
will match today’s and raise the stakes,
some strange intoxication in the air,
each day thereafter adding to the kitty,
the branches unable to hold,
instead losing all in one last gambit.
The dealer always seems to win,
sweeping the golden leaves in frosty gusts
off the faded green of our back yard.
All winter the redbud will stand
naked from its losses, the spruce
looking on, inured to the dealer’s cold breath,
and sighing, above such recklessness.
Bio: Darrell Petska, a Middleton, Wisconsin writer, retired after more than 30 years as an editor at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. His poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in Bolts of Silk, Muddy River Poetry Review, Verse Wisconsin, San Pedro River Review, Lummox Magazine and elsewhere.