Tonight is the Feast of Beech Leaves,
on which we hear the petitions of those
who would have us hide:
You are no longer useful.
You are no longer beautiful.
You are no longer wanted.
Let go.
Having heard them,
we shake our skins in the snowlight
and refuse to fall.
A new vocabulary word for me: Marcescent. Adjective. (of leaves or fronds) Withering but remaining attached to the stem.