Where are the leaves that branches bore? They’re falling fast on forest floor, A cornucopia outspread, Of orange, yellow, brown, and red: Reminders of a settled score. Ah this, my gloomy guarantor Henceforth of what I must endure: The dull, the dormant, and the dead. ___Where are the leaves? The autumn breath that some adore And gaudy foliage galore Beget a harvest not for bread But for decaying forest bed. I yearn for sylvan green décor. ___Where are the leaves? Jeff Kemper has been a biology teacher, biblical studies instructor, editor, and painting contractor. He lives with his wife, Sue, in York County, Pennsylvania.