Gently,
so gently,
fall the leaves
of Autumn,
d
o
w
n
upon the ground;
weaving,
just weaving,
bright blankets
to crunch
d
o
w
n
underneath feet;
crumbling,
now crumbling,
in earth
and grass
d
o
w
n
into bright shards;
resting,
soon resting,
in yards
and lawns—

the lawns of our discontent!