Fall by Herbert Woodward Martin

Fall

Some trees,
in a wind storm,
are determined
to hold on,
gloriously,
to the last
of their leaves
because of an
ancient and
green foreboding
law that forbids
one to undress
in public,
and besides
it would be
a very natural
embarrassment
if you were
caught unawares.

{Poem by Herbert Woodward Martin}