Dead Oakleaves Everywhere
Dead oakleaves everywhere Under my feet, Filling the forest air With odours sweet.
Acorns, three, four and five, Falling apace. Thank God I am alive This day of grace!
Joseph Campbell
Dead oakleaves everywhere Under my feet, Filling the forest air With odours sweet.
Acorns, three, four and five, Falling apace. Thank God I am alive This day of grace!
A speaker tramps through a woodland floor covered in dead oak leaves, noticing their sweet smell in the air. Acorns keep dropping around him—three, four, five at a time. Rather than feeling gloomy about the season of decay, he feels a sudden rush of thankfulness simply to be alive on such a day.
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