Autumn on a Small Tree
from Expectation Days
Sandra McPherson
After shyness,
I grew to offer almost anything in public.
But that valor--
abashment will track it down; I've wanted
razors for some meant
display of awe. And spontaneity
earns reconsiderations,
pooling of reflections,
talented to drown.
I don't know if the tree,
its fifth autumn,
still tenses with surprise.
Or becomes kinder
--that sometimes saves one--
befriends the imperceptive air.
But there is no more privacy finally.
The tree tries the first yellows it thinks of,
then revises, revises, in front of all.
I think I've seen it let
the leaves it hasn't grown yet
fall first.
4 comments:
The bravest thing to do is to revise in front of all.
Good(late)evening,Paul.
I've said it before,but it is going to be typed again.The poem that you've shared has really hit home with me.Maybe it is all the changes that are happening in me at the moment,but this poem made me tear up.
There is so much that I could let out here,by way of response to the poem that you've chosen,but I won't.I'll just comment that it is so hard to be me all the time,no matter how hard I try.Sometimes,my heart feels like it is breaking from my body,just like those leaves from the tree.I don't know what to take in,or even what to let go of anymore.
I digress,but thank you for sharing your find.:)
I look forward to future readings.
Melissa
There is no doubt that the revising and revising in front of others; being public about my changes and opening myself up to others requires a great deal of courage. Listening to what others offer as they watch me change requires another round of courage. Some days it is so much easier to stay hidden, deep within the fullness of the changing autumn colors.
Such perceptive responses here. The same issues have been on my mind too, as it's been one of those very public weeks. The poem made me feel less alone about all that.
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