Leaves

How swiftly have the leaves died this year;
Autumn came late, but overnight
The green of the day was the brown of the day after,
Where twenty-four hours previous’ had been a beautiful,
rustling curtain,
Now was an obscene carpet,
frizzled in some places, damp in others,
And everywhere stained with death, and decay.

How swiftly have the leaves died,
How swiftly must all beauty pass away.

Back To Poetry Index