Lost to time and sluice-box skull, the explanation given

Matters little 

Having read the pretension of the writer simply having to write

For us it is just the same - to catch is in part because you can

and if you can you should

insofar as we are talking of collecting dropsies from maples

and oaks and ashes and beeches

I'll break it down for you

While your connected bits float through the plant dying time in New England

Maintain an eye on the middle space

between the aliens we haven't met in the sky

and the ones we don't know yet under our toes

A stiff breeze like a stiff drink makes loose un-needed garments

raiments are they sometimes called

come raining, men, hallelujah

snatch it from the air as a brownie pulls a worm like spaghetti

from his space between unknown dangers above and below

I'm trying I promise

Its "good luck" to catch a leaf that has fallen or been pushed from a living standing tree

Gravity, you're under arrest

By the power vested in me by my opposable thumbs

Half at least of the magic is inside the thought that 

Were it not for you 

The trip would be over

A few grams will in moments so brief

Complete the only trip it will ever take

The rake is moving corpses

The leaf hangs on

Some varieties cherish their dead and hold them tight

Marcescence

They know the joy that comes with hanging on

Even after all hope is gone

Because hope isn't real and it doesn't change

Whether the leaves fall in the rain or wind

Or where the seedling lands

This slough-off holds a twinkle

and while you hold it you will too

Produce a wish, a want, a cure

Ask the soldier before allowing his trip home

To see what she can do

About your needs since 

after all

you are more powerful than the most powerful

forces of nature

and hope away hope all day

hope and pray to tree scrap

Were yours to be fulfilled

Blame could be ascribed

To the aspen and not the sky