How autumn trees put on a show,
Mardi Gras colour and floats,
after party brown, swept into gutters,
linger in groups at intersections,
we become fragile, withered.
Autumn trees remind me to brace
against cold, as wind and rain blast their core.
When season’s last clinging leaf falls,
can they recall the pursuit of light,
sun glimmering, bright green coverings?
Trunk scars and missing limbs,
bleached lightning-struck peaks –
driftwood flagpoles above the canopy.
Below rich leaf mould, roots entwine
stump descendants, fellow trees, microflora,
exchange nutrients, moisture, history.
Moss and lichen costumed tree trunk, spored
to absorb moonlight, taste dawn’s dew drops,
embrace photosynthesis, shimmy into spring.
Imprints of botanical memory, a carbon eulogy,
the party never ends.
We all leave a seed, a forest offering