Leave with Grace

by Dana Simone

I’d been enjoying the reluctance of the leaves to change color

smiling with the shades of green that suggested summer wasn’t over

siding with the hickories that indulged my lingering

don’t fall for the hype, they insisted, sit tight in our shade.

I would have stayed if not for the reproving gaze of the hydrangeas

friends all summer, even though they were unruly from the start

spilling onto pathways and jostling for room

waving their tiara blooms of pink, purple, and blue.

They appeared at morning coffee to peek in windows

winking with aplomb and lifting their faces to the sun

I must have been looking away when they stopped sashaying

when I turned back, they wore a wisdom generally reserved for the aged.

They lounged in quiet elegance

with muted hues of magenta, plum, and indigo

given everything we’d had together, they promised no regrets

go on, they encouraged, leave with grace.