Wednesday, November 21, 2007

The Maple Tree

This is "my" maple tree. I can see its leaves through my bedroom window. I love to watch it every morning as I wake up (I am not a morning person, and waking up is a rather long process). Over the past week, I've watched its leaves go from a cheery golden color to... this. The kids have been raking its leaves, and now they sit in a huge pile under the bare boughs. Fall came and went in a hurry.

by John Updike

The stripped and shapely
Maple grieves
The ghosts of her
Departed leaves.

The ground is hard,
As hard as stone.
The year is old,
The birds are flown.

And yet the world,
In its distress,
Displays a certain

The beauty of
The bone. Tall God
Must see our souls
This way, and nod.

Give thanks: we do,
Each in his place
Around the table
During grace.

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