The dry leaf drifted down
    As it was wafted away
    It rolled and pitched
    It trembled and twirled
    It spun and whirled
    A yellow trapeze
    Borne by the breeze
    Floating in currents of pain
    In aimless oscillations
    Bleeding on thorny moments
    Piercing deeper and deeper
    In its being
    Sinking in waves of separation
    In an ever decending arc
    Across the blue voids
    From the sun kissed top
    Of a hoary tree
    To the russet floor
    Spread by autumn leaves
    On the dusty earth

    As it settled on the heap
    Of dying leaves
    It couldn't sigh
    It couldn't weep
    But looked back
    In a vacant stare
    At the procession of amber leaves
    Like falling stars
    Bridging the space
    And lighting up the past
    In a pageant of memory
    Of bud, flower, and leaf
    A blend of sap and scent
    In a sweet confussion
    Like a heady wine
    Rioting in every pore
    And the clapping chorus
    Of leafy hands
    On the green eminence
    On the merrypole of spring
    Dance of light and shade
    On the glossy leaves
    Forever fluttering
    In a scented tide
    In an airy rythm
    Of a sunny symphony of joy.
    Lying on that mossy heap
    In a state of benumbed sleep
    It thought sad and deep
    Could the gravitation pull in reverse
    Could it ever traverse
    That little distance
    Between vernal fragrance
    And the memory of its scent
    Between the roseate glow
    On the green pinnacle
    And the despair of dark descent

    Could it ever fly or leap
    To wave its flag
    On the friendly bough

    Ah! the fallen leaves
    Are not joined on trees
    Nor the rose petals
    Scattered by the winds
    Are gathered in bloom
    Though the sun and moon
    Be the same
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