A dead leaf's dervish whirl

Blood rust red
spider web hung
from living green
you twirl
in a dervish whirl
drunk - forest breezed.

That breeze died -
an air river dried
into nothing. For placid green
to float and bob
as still life's
anchored and treed.

You hang limp
spider web hung
by living green,
blood rust red, very dead.