William Graddy Yesterday marked the second of what is usually a three-day annual battle at 5259 Wright Terrace between the living and the dead: my body and leaf-fall. Poets both skeptical and believing have written hauntingly about the beauty autumn leaves bring and the barrenness their absence leaves behind ("Bare ruined choirs where late the sweet birds sang"; "Márgarét, áre you gríeving / Over Goldengrove unleaving?"), but, rake in hand and ankle deep in summer's remains, I just pant, sweat,…
William GraddyNovember 1, 2013