Autumn Gold

By Clara Blair

The first gold of autumn
Fell on our lawn today.
The ash trees have begun
To dole out the bounty
Of the pale yellow leaves
They no longer need.

More subtle than the oaks,
Whose burning glory
Will come later,
The ashes will, after
This first dazzling spill,
Shed the rest more slowly.

But while they are not
Beautiful trees, planted
Not for color but for shade,
This is their moment:
They glow softly, reminding us
To treasure beauty where we find it.

© 2002 Clara Blair