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A Fallen Leaf

 A trusting little leaf of green,
A bold audacious frost;
A rendezvous, a kiss or two,
And youth for ever lost.
Ah, me! The bitter, bitter cost.
A flaunting patch of vivid red, That quivers in the sun; A windy gust, a grave of dust, The little race is run.
Ah, me! Were that the only one.

Poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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