
What once shivered greenly above us,
the leaves on our beautiful tree,
let them fall where they may,
on the grass lush and green,
or on the sidewalk to be trampled
by oblivious shoes
but do not hold a rake or broom,
resist the urge to pile,
collect,
trash, or burn
what once shimmered orange red above us
as wind whispered incoherently,
as wind whispered things that cannot be translated
rustling when the leaves were still barely clinging
over grass kept lush, green, short
since no one wants weeds or the many things
that can hide in a lawn
let them fall, let them lieand some will fall on the sidewalk
the rest land on the grass
kept green, kept short
(since no one one wants weeds or the many things that can hide in a lawn)
a soft place to land, so resist the desire
do not get the rake out to pile
to collect
to toss or burn
what once shivered golden above us
-12/02/08