When I told her
on that morning
in the hospital
how beautiful she was,
lit from the inside,
she whispered back,
"I only became beautiful
when I began to die."
At the time, I didn't understand
her words and thought
it was the morphine.
Then, when autumn came,
I knew.
Seeing the trees along the road
release the fullness of
their radiance
all at once,
burning and shining
up and down the hills,
holding nothing back.
-- Deb Cooper