Ode to My Red Maple

She lives just outside
my bedroom window,
ever loyal, ever faithful--
always in the same spot,
day after day,
season after season--
she’s there to give
comfort, even joy,
especially in November,
the sloughing month
when the leaves fall
in sad splendor, with
grace--but my tree,
my Japanese Maple,
holds out, turns scarlet
with the blood of life,
its leaves dancing
little dances of love
in the autumnal winds
as though it were
laughing at death….