I was fascinated by
the most surprisingly
beautiful sound morning
has ever made-
leaves falling from
their branches to
sandy earth below-
elongated paper-thin
slivers, dried to a
delicate mocha hue-
free falling, assembling
haphazardly in a sort of
layered grave, lifeless
but still a pleasure to behold-
the limbs above half
full of the season's signature
colors sun-kissed gold
toasted sienna, fiery auburn
and pumpkin orange-
relishing their final moments
of grandeur as winter lurks
eagerly on the horizon-
the sight of it was not as
magnificent as what I heard-
I would not have
noticed the tree at all
if not for the soft
rustling of the leaves
freeing themselves
from their perch
before descending
toward my feet-
not even in a wood,
ordinary city trees
making the gentlest
morning music
RLT �2000
