The garden pond is decked with leaves
You scoop them out with care
But soon enough the autumn wind
Moves a new cover there
It’s been like this for weeks on end
When you are done, there’s more
You’ve raked up thrice the foliage
That those trees ever bore
You loathe the frost, but now you wish
It would at last set in
And through the bare bones of a bush
You see the winter grin
