I see the yellow leaves
Of the persimmon tree
Falling down,
Showing that they are
light,
That's why
They gracefully fall
In volutes through the
air.
(as all that is light and
fragile falls)
They are welcomed by the
grass of the ground
Who doesn't feel their
weight;
But they stay there,
Yellow
As they please.
And, dead,
They’re still part of the
beauty
Which spreads around.
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