She must have known,
in the rooted way trees know,
must have known to give me a leaf,
a small thing,
traced with the stained-glass beauty
of her soul,
in autumn reds and mottled green
edged with gold,
Must have known this would be the day
before the winds came, and ice,
to leave her graceful body broken
on cold earth,
her soft heart splintered,
her insects frozen.