He Leaves For the Leaves
HE LEAVES FOR THE LEAVES
Leave work? Then I want to be dazzled by the crop
Of fall trees still in full leaf but about to drop
As if loaded with flames yellow,and russet
That ripple thru leaves , wind-fuelled, sunlit .
The little flames are thrown to the river glass,
A hard fall, a landing ungainly, crass.
Unlike their graceful selves when branch-borne,
They fall to the river, meet their reflections and mourn
And float ignominiously, and collect their fellows
In untidy piles at the slack water shallows
Among the faded reeds and river weeds
Where ducks scavenged, lunched
But there are no longer swallows bunched.
A fall from on high is filled with pathos
And seeming chaos.
End of beauty air-light , and the grief
I feel for each fallen golden leaf
Matches my joy for the tree. It now survives the all-
Too- soon-but-not-quite- yet winter
And its killing cold. And produces another
Dazzling flame-throwing show next fall.
Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2010
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