Only an artist would have leaves all around
To color and cover earth's shivering ground
And only the poet could find them ornate
And savor the sounds they tend to create
The autumn, with mystery is beautiful to see
Yet we try to erase it with all of our machinery
Reducing the outside to "shaven and clean"
Where is the beauty if nature's unseen?
Who set the rules to what it is so clean
Who created the outline, what does this mean?
Should we be removing what nature allows
By raking and mowing and running of plows?