r_engler@hvrford.UUCP (Engler) (07/15/86)
TOO LATE They huddle in the corner Trying to beat the cold The rain drives down Making it impossible to stay warm Soaking wet, they shiver Scared senseless, they shudder The storm is fearsome Yet through it all They hold their color Proud to be what they are Golden in the faint autum light The storm subsides They'll get a break Maybe a chance to dry And, if lucky, blow away Quickly, before the rain Turns to snow And the puddles To ice I wish I could help Their beautiful demise Is my pleasure I feel I owe them Too bad they're already Dead Rich Engler r_engler@hvrford