November

November Night, by Adelaide Crapsey

Listen...

With faint dry sound, 

Like steps of passing ghosts,

The leaves, frost-crisp'd, break from the trees

And fall. 

I remember collecting autumn leaves when I was a child, head down, looking for the most interesting, the most beautiful. I'm still doing it, but with photos now. Love this red and purple one. Click to enlarge. A few more...

"How beautifully the leaves grow old. How full of light and color are their last days." John Burroughs