Unexplainable,
its autumn glory;
just dogged determination
to live up
to the splendor of its name,
in yearly dying,
satisfies my mind
as sufficient cause.
Too infrequent phoenix
your falling ashes
do us underpress
the beauty of such decaying
rests us assured
all our other falls
Wicked Wissahickon
come again next spring
to die.
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