The north-east wind blows steady-hard
The sky is blue and dry
As colored leaves are plucked from trees
a few just won't comply
They move as fast as animals
That rush as if a herd
Or birds that flock above the trees
From branches where they stirred
They sang so proud and usefully
Perched green above the land
Now sorted leaves on nearby trees
Are plucked by autumn's hand
The wind frees all from summer toil
So every leaf can play
By joining those from other trees
That spread near Halfmoon Bay
