When the Leaves Are All Gone/ poem by Steven P. Klepeis

WHEN THE LEAVES ARE ALL GONE



It’s when the leaves are all gone

down to shrinking prints on bare black rock,

and the close green of summer

with long lovely arms

retires its veil in longing.



When the motes of autumn sand

clear early, and cold wisps of the lawn

dance you into the arms of bright morning,

stripped and waiting for you

to see if there is love in their truth.



What is real, what is real

is clear now. Motion, thoughtless,

bundles into an embrace

full of care and thoughtfulness.

Skin upon nature’s skin is pure,



electric, fusion, frictionless 

infusion of the soul, bathing

clean on the stone floor in

energy and light. The southeast

sun backlights the peaks, till it crests



and blinds you to a faith

to look away and know

that she will encapsulate,

rightfully, your loving breath

in coming ice.



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Steven P. Klepeis grew up in upstate New York and holds an M.A.T. from SUNY, New Paltz, NY (1982.) After working many years in Risk Management in New York and Louisiana, he followed a job to New Mexico in 2016 where he currently resides. He started writing poetry seriously in the early 1970’s and has published Brooklyn and After and Poems 1973-1987 (2021,) and Eighty-One Plus One (2022.) He wrote New Poems, his third book, over 2021-22. His fourth book, El Rio, a collection of physical and spiritual adventures while fishing and exploring various rivers, creeks and streams in the Northern, Southern and Western U.S., will publish in the summer of 2023.