Hear it in the Leaves
       

       Hear it in the leaves tonight -
       the comings of goings
       the bruised color of autumn
       the first strip of blood
       spread in silhouette
       against looming October.

       Here is the sound
       of whispered applause
       for deeds done,
       for lessening time,
       for the lost self and departed.
       Here is a voice
       of dying, 
       dead, 
       and already gone.

       While buds of spring
       conspire with boughs
       who alone know
       this tale is not novel,
       the words not new,
       have heard it told 
       before and again,
       recorded these sounds
       with each bellied groove
       life given and gone -
       a chorus of leaves
       is fallen in song.



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