Analysis of Autumn Rain

The plane leaves
    fall black and wet
    on the lawn;

The cloud sheaves
    in heaven's fields set
    droop and are drawn

in falling seeds of rain;
    the seed of heaven
    on my face

falling - I hear again
    like echoes even
    that softly pace

Heaven's muffled floor,
    the winds that tread
    out all the grain

of tears, the store
    harvested
    in the sheaves of pain

caught up aloft:
    the sheaves of dead
    men that are slain

now winnowed soft
    on the floor of heaven;
    manna invisible

of all the pain
    here to us given;
    finely divisible
    falling as rain.