To the Autumn Birches

The languid light of waning day
Glares undiffused by any cloud,
Still strong, defying its decay,

Then breaks on a dark colonnade—
Oak, ash, and beech—a somber crowd
Of mourners cloaked in winter’s shade.

But you—you stun the dozing gaze;
You stand apart and deign not weep,
Casting mourning’s grim gown away,

And dare to shine as shadows grow,
Awake when all around you sleep,
Illumined with a radiant glow

As though with your own inner light
Like columns in the Aegean sun,
Of stainless marble, gleaming white,

Crowned with cascading golden tresses,
Glittering as the breezes run,
And shake them loose with soft caresses.

But let none dare call you coquette
You shine because you know the morn
Past night that others see not yet.

Prophetess of the spring’s rebirth!
You show its light to those who mourn,
Brightening autumn with your mirth.

Adam Sedia (b. 1984) lives in his native Northwest Indiana and practices law as a civil and appellate litigator. He has published four books of poetry and his poems, essays, and fiction have appeared in various literary journals. He is also a composer, and his musical works may be heard on his YouTube channel.