CRIMSON AND GOLD
Every Fall we have left the city
On the second weekend in October
To drive through the mountains
And admire the foliage
Every year together for twenty years
It is something we have shared
When our children were not interested
When we were young and had to rent the car
I have never really asked you why we go
I have simply said:
“Shall we go to the mountains next weekend?”
And you have said,
“I would be nice.”
This year our country fights a silent war
That some people claim is complicated
And some people claim is simple
In the car this weekend I wonder again
At the crimson and gold leaves.
Aglow with the Promethian blazes of rebellion
Leaves greet their end with resplendent refusal.
As they fall, if they could speak
would we still want to be here?
“But they are only leaves” you say
Yes, and when it is our time to fall,
Will our rebellion sound as brave
As their silence?
Sarah A Bean
On the second weekend in October
To drive through the mountains
And admire the foliage
Every year together for twenty years
It is something we have shared
When our children were not interested
When we were young and had to rent the car
I have never really asked you why we go
I have simply said:
“Shall we go to the mountains next weekend?”
And you have said,
“I would be nice.”
This year our country fights a silent war
That some people claim is complicated
And some people claim is simple
In the car this weekend I wonder again
At the crimson and gold leaves.
Aglow with the Promethian blazes of rebellion
Leaves greet their end with resplendent refusal.
As they fall, if they could speak
would we still want to be here?
“But they are only leaves” you say
Yes, and when it is our time to fall,
Will our rebellion sound as brave
As their silence?
Sarah A Bean