An armada of leaves embarked
This morning from moorings
Outside my door.
Workers on shore cheered
Their summer's labor as
The cleansing tide of autumn wind
Rose and lifted golden hulls
Free from earthen cradles, and
Ruddy faced captains trimmed
Yellow sails skyward.
Youthful crews sang
The adventure from which
They will never return,
For the hope of love,
For the priceless treasure of
Living and dying.
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