Memory

I found this poem today in an anthology of poems I didn't know I had (and with which I am currently obsessed).  It nicely sums up my adoration for fall.  So, for your reading pleasure (mom), here it is:

Memory

Out of my dooryard maple

A gilded leaflet fell,

Twinkling down on a sunbeam,

Like music from a bell.

Nor hand nor foot disturbed it,

And frolicsome gusts of air,

Whirling the wayside atoms,

Danced on, and left it there.

Slowly away it wasted

Till only a film remained --

A skeleton leaf, a shadow,

Lost wholly when it rained.

Yet lo, on the stained foot-way,

Etched where the gold had lain,

A delicate shape -- a spirit --

Tarried in wind and rain.

                              -Charles H. Luders

You're welcome.