How do you account for things: take night

before last, a dry night, still, leaves from

the maple by the driveway worked a solid

semicircle on the driveway, really pretty but

thick: I raked it up in the afternoon: but

last night around midnight a drizzle that

turned slowly into a quiet rain started and

kept up till day and after day: but not more

than a few leaves fell, and plenty are still on

the tree: except right at the tip of some

branches, now stick sprays, where, by the way,

the hornets' nest rides right out in the open,

stiller than a balloon: but, I mean, why

didn't the weighted wet leaves come down, even

in bigger droves than on the dry night: my theory

founded on guesswork is that the dry night got

so dry it got crisp, and crisp cracked off the

stems from the branches: and so the leaves

just fell off: they didn't need any breeze or

rain: is that wonderful: do you suppose it's

so: who knows: maybe the night of the crisp

fall was really no more than a bear climbing

up there and shivering the tree, shaking them

down: I would just as soon know the answer to

some things as how a galaxy turns...