FALL

First light of red and gold touches

the Blue Mountains maples and

liquid ambers: the calm

clarity of autumn is at hand.

When we were young

we caught the sunshine,

like the chlorophyll,

to generate our sap and scent.

Now the chlorophyll retreats

from us dangerous front-line leaves

seeking safe haven instead in branch

and solid trunk till spring.

Wind, rain and heat –

once friends with whom we sang –

now threaten; but our skin

is tough and we hang on.

Of our class, so lightly green

in 1966, a few have fallen.

We who remain see colours change

as hours of sunlight shorten.