these autumn leaves

These Autumn Leaves
a poem by Troy Cady
(for Heather on your birthday)

These autumn leaves have clung too long.
I do not know when they began to change color.
Summer did not fall suddenly.
Day by day, it merely shuffled,
bit by bit,
into a new season,
until
—here we have it,
I can see now—
it is autumn.

Finally, the leaves have given way to the wind.
It was too long in coming.

There is a naked beauty in the tree stripped bare,
the trees gathered in unruffled honesty.
Leafless trees make it easier to see blue.

I do not know when the times changed, my love.
I only know that
—here we have it,
I can see now—
we have entered a new season.
It is most welcome.
I did not know this before,
but I realize now that
all this time
I have been waiting
for this renewal of days,
when we face each other,
like two trees in a field,
with unruffled honesty.
It is a new time.
I am glad of its coming.

I hope the color-change was to your liking.
I hope I have not become duller,
but rather brighter,
warmer.
I hope you see around me
a banner of red and orange and gold fit for royalty,
cast to the ground,
willing to be blown wherever,
for I would be done with clinging to myself.

This is my birthday gift to you.
This is how I wish to celebrate
the strong wind, soft rain and bright sun.
There shall be a banner,
but it shall not be mounted up high.
No, it shall be laid at your feet,
like a delicate carpet.
And I shall stand with you just as I am,
unremarkable,
rooted with you,
without pretense,
our gladness seasoned,
rich with history.

We will not flutter restlessly this season,
we will simply let go,
and stand strong just as we are,
knowing spring will cycle through once again,
in time,
in time.

This shall be our beauty.
This is your beauty.
Happy birthday, my wife.