You never know how the fall will be
and what it will bring to you,
what the dance of the leaves will do
and what the colors will be.
And so it keeps you interested,
the spasmodic twists and turns
of green in the wind
and then the last gasps
in bright glory. We come back
to watch again and again,
transfixed, as at Tyburn Tree, where
at one moment there is life
on the gallows, then
a glow of reds and purples, yellows,
and then the pallor, winter,
that sets the eyes in a sightless stare
into the ice and snow,
when the footing is lost
and all the leaves are down.
Contributor’s Note: ROBERT M. GIANNETTI is the author of two collections of poetry, “Drawn by the Creek” (2003) and “Winter Vision” (2011), both from Cashes Valley Publications, and a chapbook, “Three Poems,” published in 2014 by the Poetry Collection at the University at Buffalo. He lives in Lewiston. Tyburn Tree, also known as the Tyburn Gallows, was the site of public executions in London (near today’s Marble Arch) from 1196 to 1783.