Beautiful stuff. Simply brilliant.
As close as any has ever come to "the great American novel." It does not speak well of us that few people, if any, still talk about "the" great American novel.
(Someone stop me)
Or like Frost wrote...
"Ah, when to the heart of man
Was it ever less than a treason
To go with the drift of things,
To yield with a grace to reason,
And bow and accept the end
Of a love or a season?"
Sigh...
I need to rake some leaves. 8~)