Raymond Oliver
In November
De ramis cadunt folia, from branches
Leaves are falling; but as the year advances,
Language draws me backward through such leaves
As it accumulates, anthologies
Of Autumn feelings, Latin on Germanic:
Emily saw her summer lightly vanish,
Keats was companion to the languid reaper,
Cold was that time of year that came for Shakespeare.
De ramis cadunt folia, from branches
Leaves are falling; and so the year advances.
Page(s) 37
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