Comments about Matthew Morgan
Leaves Never Lie
I sail through the wind, full of anticipation and joy.
Landing with a thud, I do a somersault and crash on my back.
The dead sticks snap under me as the leaves grind in my mouth.
I roll over and run up the hill, my sneakers filling with loose gravel and sand as the leaves cascade around me, growing ever thinner and more spread out.
I mount the hill hoping that the pile will remain intact for just one more jump.
In ordered piles I rake the leaves, bending over to scoop them up, and carry them away.
Reckless and romantic thoughts fly threw my mind, like the ...