the coming of Fall

I read in bark of blasted trees, that Fall was on the wind again and coming back deep in the changing woods. With a loud call I went to bid it welcome back where all its glory was a year before whose track I'd read in bark of blasted trees that Fall. I came to where that was. Only a small bush was unchanged. All else betrayed a lack deep in the changing woods. With a loud call I yelled for you and tripped before the tall willow we loved beneath, whose going black I'd read in bark of blasted trees that Fall. I punched it like a block and felt it spall, then like torn linen let my fist go slack deep in the changing woods. With a loud call for you, like mad wind I began to bawl, heart cut in two with the condemning crack You hear in bark of blasted trees that fall, deep in the changing woods, with a loud call.