Good Morning, the Sun in October

BEE LB

after Sanna Wani

is bleaching the color from the tops of the leaves
leaving only the underside the lightest, silkiest gold.
once, my mother had a maple leaf shrined in copper.
who knows where it ended up. but here, outside
her window, there are dozens upon dozens more.
one branch has a drooping arm of leaves still green,
only the edges outlined in rust. the lowest branch is caught
by wind, set to wave, beckoning anyone into the world,
under the rays of light that aren’t quite enough
to warm the day. i don’t know what changed
aside from everything, but the sorrow
that has been coiling in my chest like a snake
beneath a heat lamp has unfurled, found its way
into some dark corner i cannot feel
and do not want to reach for. hello october,
had i known you would bring with you this lightness,
this buoyant sun and array of brightness, i would’ve welcomed you
sooner. i would’ve rushed toward you, arms outstretched,
hoping to catch each of your crisp, falling leaves.
i don’t even mind the tips of my fingers stiff
with chill, the harsh buzz of a
neighbor pulling out the leaf blower,
the days sleeping early and rising late. i’m here
good morning, the sun has so much to share.