Hilary Biehl

The Leaf Blower

He makes the wind do what it’s told.
Well, not exactly; wind resists,
but he gets paid to use his fists.
In this world nature’s bought and sold
and blown around haphazardly.
He walks below each storm-shorn tree,
stomping through drifts of leafy mold,
swinging his gadget side to side.
He won’t ask why, won’t break his stride,
just breezily redistributes gold. 

Hilary Biehl’s poems have recently appeared in Blue Unicorn, Autumn Sky Poetry Daily, and Star*Line. She lives in New Mexico with her husband and son.