In the calm autumn the world watches
a leaf fall from the old birch,
dazzling the quiet crowd with his dance.
He fakes left and he fakes right,
eluding the unseen defensive line.
His agile frame moves like a boxer,
packing nothing but guts –SPLASH–
All eyes view the ripples on the lake
and the man on the dock behind the tree,
casting the line and the lure with ease.
The hook curves through the air and –hush–
The sad little leaf lands without a cheer.
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