When Autumn Came

When I told her
on that morning
in the hospital
how beautiful she was,
lit from the inside,
she whispered back
“I only became beautiful
when I began to die.”

At the time, I didn’t understand
her words and thought
it was the morphine.

Then, when autumn came
I knew, seeing the trees
along the road
release the fullness
of their radiance
all at once,
burning and shining
up and down the hills,
holding nothing back.