One Leaf

This is my rage against the dying light:
a shout of scarlet, orange cry of pain
replacing quiet green. A bloody stain,
defiant flag held high against the night.
The darkened winter sky enframes me bright
a burning silhouette, unquenched by rain
a bonfire smoldering in every vein
that once ran green. Though I will lose the fight
and fall to lie in frozen winter earth,
my reds and golds transformed to dun and brown
my flesh dissolved to feed some spring rebirth—
the struggle is its own reward. I die
content to know, before I was dragged down
I left a streak of scarlet on your eye.

--with thanks to Dylan Thomas


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