november morning

when i woke this morning
the ground lay thick with leaves
the deep bronze of the pin oak
proving a fitting foil
to the bright gold
of the eastern-most sweet gum
on the other side of the drive
at the edge of the stand of pines
the westernly gum tree stands sunset-hued
crimson and orange and eggplant
comingling on a single branch
every autumn my heart swells with delight
as the simple loss of clorophyll
once more reveals the marvel
hidden in plain sight
this time i wonder whether
it is possible to die
of so much beauty