dead
leaves piled up in the slow steady rain
their
reds and yellows dull on the dark ground
so
much of sorrow is already plain
to
us who listen as the boughs complain
at
the winds passage with a sighing sound
dead
leaves piled up in the slow steady rain
are
one more sign of life's passing campaign
against
eternity this is one round
so
much of sorrow is already plain
and
we're the losers since we never gain
a
single inch nor hope for a rebound
dead
leaves piled up in the slow steady rain
are
but the markers of our lost terrain
someone
will come and heap them in a mound
so
much of sorrow is already plain
it
is reality nothing arcane
our
normal vista not a thing profound
dead
leaves piled up in the slow steady rain
so
much of sorrow is already plain
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