We have said farewell to them all -- to the croaking tree-toads, To humming gnats, to bees that sucked the plum, To silver moths that fluttered at summer street lamps. On a window the last cold fly hangs dazed and numb. We kick at the leaves. Our heels crush leaves in the gutter. They are dropping like slow confetti through bright air. You stagger and cry. You stumble against the brick wall. A yellow grape-leaf burns in your dark, thick hair. We smell it, it chokes us -- this odor of sweet decay. Your knuckles beat at your mouth. You fight for breath. The day is a knife that stabs us. We stand bewildered And blinded by this bright pageantry of death. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A TOCCATA OF GALUPPI'S by ROBERT BROWNING THE TEACHER by LESLIE PINCKNEY HILL AFTER A LECTURE ON KEATS by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES RONDEAU by JAMES HENRY LEIGH HUNT FIRMILIAN; A TRAGEDY by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN |