Crisp Night, Car Roof, Bat-Leaves

I had stepped out to get something out of the car when I noticed the bat-like shadows thrown by the brittle sycamore leaves on the roof. So I went back and got the Canon.
There wasn't much wind (though shooting at such slow speeds I had to wait between breaths for the leaves to resettle). But here's something I wrote about listening to dead leaves on a windy night:

Night, Wind, Dead Leaves

rattle and hiss, the sound so high
it is almost a whistle,

their bodying sigh
the air of something more palpable

than passing by.



(from my recently published third collection Fade Street.)