In response to the painting Tree in Autumn by Emily Carr
O, Autumn Tree—if I could take
you anywhere, I’d take you back
to that nursing home on Epps Bridge
Road, where we used to play bingo
with other people’s grandparents.
I’d hang you where the window
should be. Then, the silver-frosted
sunlight sifting through your
webbed boughs would pierce
that brown brick melancholy
with autumn’s twilight hymn.
I’d plant you where the residents
could wheel in close, leaves drifting
to upturned noses, golden glint
quickening listless eyes—if they stared
long enough, your lake-drenched air
would wash the neglect from their skin.
I’d root you where the nurses and staff
would pass during rounds, where your
stark color would strike deep, slow them
to a whisper: I’ve seen you before.