A Song of Beginnings

You say we should build A pile of leaves to jump Into, to toss up in the air And hear crinkle as we roll Over them and down The hill. But it rained Yesterday; or maybe it was The day before, when we Heard the pitter-patter On the skylights at dawn. I think you’ll find That the leaves are wet On the undersides. But this is a song Of beginnings, and so I rake a pile of landlocked Fall waves into one Precarious rustling mound, And with your word, Let go the earth, and fall.