the bones of it

a sugar maple
after the first hard freeze
knows the essential
& lets everything else

releases red
to run rustling
in front of wind

we call it falling
but the core stands

the stripped simplicity
of a monk
one more layer
shrugged off

with casual asceticism

About Susan L Daniels

I am a firm believer that politics are personal, that faith is expressed through action, and that life is something that must be loved and lived authentically--or why bother with any of it?
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14 Responses to the bones of it

  1. Hi Susan. Really like this one, anthropomorphising trees always works for me! I wasn’t convinced about “bare” being where it is, but it’s grown on me.

  2. janehewey says:

    nice. i enjoy how the physical form of the poem echoes the content. stripped simplicity… delightful.

  3. Leo says:

    I’m a sucker for trees and asceticism any day! Very well done. Leo

  4. BroadBlogs says:

    Love maples, love fall, and love this and how you get so much more out of it than maples and fall.

  5. nelle says:

    Maples, I’ve had a fondness for them since childhood. Love ’em. Praise be my favourite tree!

  6. The maples where I live are doing the same. It’s neat how their yearly ritual can be described with such lovely, poetic words. 🙂

  7. Jeremy Nathan Marks says:

    I really like the rhythm of that penultimate stanza. If you were looking for us to “feel” the falling leaves, you succeeded. 🙂

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