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Poem

The leaf came down
                        it came down
                                        it came down

from heights of thinnest twig
                   a fated swan
                                         a fated swan

   in youth she bloomed unfurled from sprig
vibrant with green esprit of Spring
            supple her strength to weather storms
  her skin bedewed despite the leather-drying-sun
       anchored she sailed the winds    'til
                  she let go
                           she let go
                                                she let go

      — surrender in November 
 
a Fall star dimmed on season’s stage 
         a fallen star in dizzy whimsy whirl
                              Autumn’s strawberry-blonde  
     a flash of fame while colored flame
             but dead to a maple tree
who needs her no longer to win aging’s game

             though she loses her dew
 she’s alive to herself
           as she muses with stream-song chanteuses
                 she’s alive to herself
   while baring the bruises she chooses
         she’s alive to herself
accepting her fate to crinkle and crepe
                               she’s alive to herself

          —and I  am alive to myself

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