by A.W. Robertson


The fallen leaf is but reborn
A gayer freer thing.
Without stem anchor it courts the wind
And flies with it
No longer coy and Branch-bound.

Its green dress gone it wears a rainbow,
A wingless bird of paradise.
In its new life it speaks
With gustful rustle.

At last it joins the restless myriads
On the ground.
They chorus an invitation
To heavy feet and troubled mind
Come walk ankle-deep and forget the years.
Come walk in leaves and find youth's dream.