Classic Poem

When the leaves fall off the trees
Everybody walks on them:
Once they had a time of ease
High above, and every breeze
Used to stay and talk to them.

Then they were so debonair
As they fluttered up and down;
Dancing in the sunny air,
Dancing without knowing there
Was a gutter in the town.

Now they have no place at all!
All the home that they can find
Is a gutter by a wall,
And the wind that waits their fall
Is an apache of a wind.