And the gift of this tree
outside the nurturing window
brings me to the now
in a way that touches on
both yesterday and tomorrow
its lush dancing at the end of summer
deep green with just a hint of dry,
the wind blowing a frenzy of joy
and its thusness
includes the yellow orange celebration to come
the riot of extinguishing bright light
the slow spinning into freefall
a gradual stripping away,
the purification of a branch
and blanketing of earth with brown possibility
the stark lovely grasping
brave against the dark
until soft snow
and bitter ice do their work to armour it
a brittle layer of lonely isolation
that will melt again
to juice up with tenderness
the vulnerable buds
and the soft shedding of their protective tips
will create a new unfurling
for another wave of dancing.