Fall

It is not leaves we grieve after.
It is for girl who grows in heart,
That lies in wanwood leafmeal.

(Maggie take care of the candy
Not to worry of leaves unduly
And wipe nose clean in hanky.)

There is no point being weepy.
Winter grows cold and wrinkly.
Gold grove is set to fall finally.

But it is not girl we mourn for
Nor leaves in the golden grove
It is us and you we mourn for.

(Reading Gerard Manly Hopkins poem Spring and Fall)

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