Every time it’s fall, and sometimes when it’s not, I think of a certain tree:
a tree that greeted me on my way out to class and in from work,
a tree I loved because it was my favorite color,
a tree that defied the expectations of aging
and worked from dark to light.
It wore the mauve of fall overtaking summer’s green
then blushed bright scarlet before fading into orange.
Like the office assistant who brightens your weekday
with hellos, hard candy, and care,
though you may not know her well,
so was this tree to me.
It was my favorite for its unconventional beauty,
a constant each fall day
on my walk by Fischer.