November

Sunday morning the tall
clumpy maples out-
side the bedroom window
shed their gold leaves.
One comes floating down, a
big one, then absolutely
nothing and then the nothing
lengthens. I mean
there are six or seven groups of
them over a hundred
and fifty feet high, a whole sky
acre of leaves and not
one letting loose, just the nothing
going on over and over,
then one small leaf falls fast
right near the middle
and way up the old frail one
twists and spin in the
smooth wind, you’d put all your
money on it and lose.
Then come two at once, medium
size, followed by another,
then nothing, stillness again, the
wind and leaves tug a
warring over a minute and a half,
the whole nothing stretch-
ing out and widening. It’s un-
believable! amazing! non-
sense! Then a large one, brilliant
yellow, big as an elephant’s
foot, drops fast right in front, comes
straight down ten to twelve
feet then glides to the ground in wide
circles like a wise man
dancing.