Weekly Poem: 'Leaf at the End'

**By Lily Brown** I climbed a giant leaf at the end of my imagination. Across the spotted water, the hill fastened its yellow bushels. The imagination asked for all the cities, for the canopy to get its machines out and tile the leaves. My friend Lily assumes what I want and it's so unfair. The imagination shoves in and pushes blithely out, a belt of pelicans, a plank of hard clouds, bunches of doorknobs halo the street-blighted hills. I find a pile of antlers in the woods, assembled for burning. I crawl beneath them and stay there when the burners come with their fire. Up in the canopy I dangle, touching nothing.   Lily Brown is the author of "Rust or Go Missing" (Cleveland State University, 2010).