ginkgo leaves

I love my ginkgo tree.  It is very large and very old.  Last week the leaves all dropped.  All at once.  It is amazing. 

My friend, the late Nancy Duncan, a wonderful storyteller from Omaha, told me of this poem several years ago.  Each year, when the leaves drop, I am reminded of Nancy and this poem.  Thank you, Nancy.

Such a beautiful reminder of how quickly we may lose "the fluttering fans of light."  Or life.

The Consent

By Howard Nemerov 1920–1991

 

Late in November, on a single night

Not even near to freezing, the ginkgo trees

That stand along the walk drop all their leaves

In one consent, and neither to rain nor to wind

But as though to time alone: the golden and green

Leaves litter the lawn today, that yesterday

Had spread aloft their fluttering fans of light.

 

What signal from the stars? What senses took it in?

What in those wooden motives so decided

To strike their leaves, to down their leaves,

Rebellion or surrender? and if this

Can happen thus, what race shall be exempt?

What use to learn the lessons taught by time.

If a star at any time may tell us: Now.