the wind tugs the leaves
off the aspen trees, many
before they’re golden—
children, I say, I love you,
and kiss their green ears
their green heads as I send
them to school,
tell them to go
do beautiful things
the wind tugs the leaves
off the aspen trees, many
before they’re golden—
children, I say, I love you,
and kiss their green ears
their green heads as I send
them to school,
tell them to go
do beautiful things