shadow

The Japanese Maples Next to the Bank


are so brilliant in color
I am stilled like a tree myself,
rooted in awe
at their flagrant decay.

I want to join them,
trade my black clothes
for orange and gold, roll
like a child in drifts of beauty.

They seem to dance in the wind,
and when no one is looking,
I shake my hair in the sun
and dance, too.

of 5 stories this month > Get unlimited stories
You've read 5 of 5 free stories

Only $1 for your first month.

Get unlimited Monitor journalism.