mango-red leaves

leaves start to fall they're mango-red and dry

but seem like scattered tears in the grey dawn

when i have got the paper from the lawn

and sought the new day's fortune in the sky

with hope the auguries will not now lie

while those who sleep behind curtains still drawn

miss happy sight of trotting deer and fawn

for all the world like neighbours passing by

now this is change and magic in its way

which multiplied becomes the world's own form

and contains us such moments we retain

in deepest memory against the day

of dearth and sorrow in the heart of storm

when we are lashed by coldest wind and rain