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I am not sad –
just tired, as the sun
lets go, and the leaves hunt the ground.
Writing this little piece taught me something invaluable to do with the art of poetry. To start with I did not have ‘hunt’ in the last line but a word to do with leaves coming into contact with the ground. I needed a monosyllable and over some days tried and discarded perhaps a dozen or two: ‘touch’, ‘brush’, ‘hit’, ‘tap’ etc. Finally I asked my mind to look again, if I can put it like that, and at once I saw leaves circling, ‘hunting’ downward, and I had my word.