Trunk slightly curved, tall and pliant,
arms swaying softly while awaiting
her queen seldom seen but soon to be arriving.
Slender fingers reluctant
to surrender Fall’s coat, a resplendent
canopy of reds and gold.
Young and old,
brothers and sisters, all attendant
for this timeless ceremony.
Each Maple adorned in similar fashion.
Each standing in proud conversation,
observing required civility.
A carpet of reds and gold
at their feet,
Queen Chimeon’s return of no small enterprise.
So, no matter the size,
they all worked toward the same feat.
Phthinorphan has been kind this year,
their colours especially vibrant.
A fact made clear as cameras flashed in ardent
desire to capture their beauty and grace held dear
by an approving audience in awe’s wake.
And – as queens are allowed to do,
Queen Chimeon will be arriving late –
unencumbered by the restraints of me or you…
Relinquished leaves danced upon the sound of Queen Chimeon’s arrival,
rising to salute their new queen,
hoping to glean
her esteemed approval.
All bowed in sage reverence,
reds and gold replaced by somber
grey befitting the occasion. Winter surely here
with Queen Chimeon ready to reign – well known for her patience,
strength and wisdom. Queen Chimeon’s anger
quick but impartial.
The queen’s judgement never questioned until now – A single maple
unwilling to renounce her festive coat achieved under
Phthinorphan’s rule. Ruby’s vibrant colours
still the subject of admiration.
Queen Chimeon explains to the sapling that such vanity will bring assured destruction,
unable to survive the long winter’s
cold in her flimsy coat.
A stubborn sapling indeed,
Ruby refuses to heed
the queen’s wise words, preferring to gloat
among the other maples, dressed in their dark winter’s armor.
Cold creeping in for Rudy is still not ready,
Queen Chimeon summons the wind, her hands unsteady
as she instructs him in a final bid to ensure
the willful sapling’s survival.
A sudden gust blasts from the north,
surrounding the young maple, henceforth
afraid for her life, arms convulsing in upheaval
as futile leaves fall
unceremoniously to the ground
frozen beneath, marking winter’s solstice in a final flourish…Ruby now bound
by gratitude – cold cast off, vanity vanquished once and for all.
© 2015 Brenda Baker
Originally posted on November 15th, 2015. At that time, I had very few people within my community so I wanted to share once again. 🙂