and I keep listening to a song about autumn
where an apple tastes like longing and every leaf
in the maple tree tries to explain loss
through a series of colors—hectic orange,
indifferent red, a kind of gold that speaks
directly to God or moonbeams and in the dark
as I drive down wet roadways watching for deer
the only things I can see clearly
are the yellow leaves christening
my windshield and I think how we are taught
not to love too many, too much, the night,
the darkness, and I believe I am crying but it is
It’s raining here where I am tonight and the idea of night thinking it is crying intrigues me, makes me want to know more. There is a song about autumn where an apple tastes like longing. There’s that word again, longing, that yearning we may not be able to articulate that sometimes comes with this season.
Where other poets might speak of the brilliant hues of autumn, Agodon tells us that every leaf / in the maple tree tries to explain loss through their changing colours. We’ve all recognized the hectic orange, but a gold that speaks directly to God or moonbeams – that stopped me in my tracks and threw all my commonplace descriptions out the window.
She says we are taught / not to love too many, too much. What does this mean? Is she speaking of the loss that these falling leaves embody? I believe I am crying but it is / only rain. Perhaps she wants us to know that this is a loss that is seasonal, not a time to grieve for this natural ending – no tears; it is only rain.