Leaf-fall

This is the time of thedying year.

A tree stands leafless,barren,
dark against autumn sunlight:
Her fellow is still gay with colours,
gold and russet;
low sun slanting through glowing leaves
shining on bark,
on a leaf that spirals to earth,
gilded ambiguity,
brightness, and death.

Squirrels run, seeking thelast harvest
for their winter store.

On the ground leaves aretreacherous, slippery
from rains that stripped the tree,
a trap for the unwary.
Scents of moist rotting leaves
decaying, stir memories
of other falls
other years
other times
those who were before
those who have gone to death through the generations
those who dwell in the mound

Below, last year's leaves,thin skeletons, turn to powder,
earth to earth returning

A tree stands leafless,stark; crow
calling from the branches
then flying with slow wingbeats
calling yet.
Answers come from around
calling, calls
then silence:
A still day of autumn