Spare no lament for the maple leaves <br />that, defying their impending fall, <br />play blazing gold and scarlet concerts <br />bright as Christmas brass in marble halls. <br /> <br />How bold their radiant finales resound <br />deaf to the sweatered ones below <br />sweeping death away <br />with their treble scraping rakes - <br />raising smoldering pyres of the fallen. <br /> <br />Steamy plumes from cocoa mugs <br />blend with burning oak and maple wisps. <br />The rakers chant their own sweet airs, <br />"The colors surprised this year, <br />didn't think we'd had the rain." <br /> <br />So spare no lament for the maple leaves <br />who with jubilant anthems <br />raised beneath the harvest moon <br />herald their fall with rainbow alleluias.<br /><br />Robert Charles Howard<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/autumn-finale/
