Attitude Check
Climb down off your white horse
And sit in the shade of the trees
To drink from your canteen
A taste of humility
Toys at the Base of an Oak Tree
“‘We’ll be Friends Forever, won’t we, Pooh?’ asked Piglet.
‘Even longer,’ Pooh answered.”
- A. A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh
You find them at the base of a tree sometimes:
A pewter knight or a plastic Robin Hood
Or a marble lost in the long-ago
Turned up among the weeds by shifting roots
In the leafy silences of summer a little boy
Practiced the arts of magic and manliness
With Robin Hood and the pewter knight searching for a jewel
To present to their Lady Marian
When he was a little older the boy walked to town
To the bus station, and off to a distant war
A jewel sacrificed to the blasphemy of the State
You’ll find his name at the base of a stone
But the pewter knight and the plastic Robin Hood
And beautiful Lady Marian still wait for him
These Are Not the Leaves of Autumn
These are not the leaves of autumn, these husks;
They died so young, fallen from the summer-burnt oaks
Leaving the lingering limbs barren of green
A struggle of woody cells against the drought
They wear no celebratory colors
Nothing of red or gold to catch the sun
For they died of thirst in their lost-green youth
Never reaching the October they had earned
These are not the leaves of autumn, oh, no
But only shells dry-rattling in the wind
Even the Oak Trees are Dying
“Wildfire… evacuation of nearby residences under way”
- news bulletin
Poor drought-dead leaves in mockery of autumn
Wind-rustle across the lawn as the dried husks they are
Rattling like withered exoskeletons along the dust
Or The Ancient Mariner’s dead sailors upon the deck
Like Children Dancing
Like children dancing, leaves form up in rows
Then skitter across each corner and street
As shoals in rolling ranks overflowing other ranks
Or little tornadoes laughing through circles and swirls
Like children celebrating their youth and strength
Leaves tumble and run before the shifting wind
‘Way up into the air and back to earth
In happy games of catch-me-if-you-can
Like children in the afternoon, just out of school
Autumn leaves joyfully mock every rule
A Good Enough Leaf-Time
No more the withered summer-browns of death
Crumbling and sere upon the dry and crackling ground
Beneath a Rime of the Ancient Mariner sky—
Leaves in autumn colours are falling now
Pale greens, poor yellows, weak reds, but good enough
To decorate this time of early frosts
With appropriate merriment, good enough
To rake into playtime heaps for children and dogs
These modest scenes will attract no peepers this year
But I will send you a snap—it’s good enough!
The Aeolian Harp and the Aeolian Tree-Stump
Every tree is an Aeolian harp
Singing the Daily Office of the wind
Not often the night’s Matins and Lauds so much
But with the breezy dawn the service of Prime
And I know an Aeolian tree-stump too
Of deeper voices through its mysterious hollows
Wind whispering into the damp, dark earth
Then booming out into the air again
Every tree is an Aeolian harp
But a tree-stump can be musical too
