Leaves (a song of exile)
Leaves fall across the pathways
Like a steady blowing rain
On the old ranch houses and new MacHouses
And it's cold in Connecticut, once again
I hear it's cold in England too
I am less than American, after all
I don't drive & scream for the Yankees
I remember how leaves of Autumn fall
I'll never learn all these written rules
Of shaven lawns and cleared debris
As if there were something innately flawed
In designs of nature, the heart of me.
poem by Frank Bana
Added by Poetry Lover
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