A Fallen Leaf

A TRUSTING little leaf of green,
A bold, audacious frost,
A rendezvous, a kiss or two,
    And youth forever lost.
       Ah, me!
    The bitter, bitter cost!

A flaunting patch of vivid red
    That quivers in the sun,
A windy gust, a grave of dust--
    The little race is run.
                      Ah, me!
    Were that the only one!

    ELLA WHEELER WILCOX.

The Evening Bulletin [Philadelphia] 30 Nov. 1901: 7.

Courtesy of John M. Freiermuth.


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