Garnet Recollections

In all my beauty, I am undone slowly
after a season of changes.
Summer is remembered here,
under the canopies of Autumn's colors;
it is underfoot like pine and spruce cones
and a carpet of burnt sienna needles
over still green grass,
it hangs in dewy air in spirit form.

Every glorious Summer day is recollected
and displayed among Autumn's bounty;
there is no true death here, what falls are
still living things in motion.
Autumn doesn't yet know Winter, it is
oblivious to its fate; it is still a child
celebrating in carefree play.

The changing leaves are worn with pride
on seasoned trees, their barks encrusted
with lichens in their primordial wisdom.
How can a death be so alive as
a falling leaf is?
In this same way, part of me dies
as Summer does yet is never lost,
but repurposed; this is the birth of
hope and faith and the dream of Spring:
To envision new growth
and to be reborn.

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