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Column 826

A Yellow Leaf

01.18.2021

Ari­zo­nan Alber­to Rios prob­a­bly observed this shamel ash often, its year-round green leaves nev­er chang­ing. On this par­tic­u­lar day, how­ev­er, he rec­og­nizes a dif­fer­ence — a yel­low leaf. In doing so he offers us a glimpse of how some­thing small yet unex­pect­ed may stay with us, per­haps even become a secret pleasure.

Editor’s Note: This col­umn (40) is a reprint from the Amer­i­can Life in Poet­ry archive as we bid farewell to Ted Koos­er, and work to final­ize the new web­site and forth­com­ing columns curat­ed by Kwame Dawes.

A Yellow Leaf

A yellow leaf in the branches
Of a shamel ash
In the front yard;
I see it, a yellow leaf
Among so many.
Nothing distinguishes it,
Nothing striking, striped, stripped,
Strident, nothing
More than its yellow
On this day,
Which is enough, which makes me
Think of it later in the day,
Remember it in conversation
With a friend,
Though I do not mention it—
A yellow leaf on a shamel ash
On a clear day
In an Arizona winter,
A January like so many.

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Disclaimer

We do not accept unsolicited submissions

We do not accept unsolicited submissions. American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Reprinted from The Smallest Muscle in the Human Body, Copper Canyon Press, 2002, by permission of the author. Copyright © 2002 by Alberto Rios, a writer and professor at Arizona State University. Introduction copyright © 2024 by The Poetry Foundation.