poetry autumnleaves

by Matthew Beard

I. The Drainpipes

A handful, Of soggy leaves,
Pulled from the drainpipe.
Rivulets of silt-gray water,
Pool beside my shoes.
The smell,
Acrid and distinct.
Crisp autumn,
Water-logged for three weeks,
Drip and decay.
I throw them to the ground,
And hear:
A rock being dropped in a bucket of paint,
A bird being hit by a plane.

About the Author

Matthew Beard is a second year English/Theatre double major at the University of Colorado.

322 Review is a journal that publishes provocative emerging and established artists. Operated by Rowan University graduate students enrolled in the Master of Arts in Writing Program, 322 Review is aggressively seeking the best fiction, creative nonfiction, poetry, mixed genre, and mixed media works of visual art.