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Etude d'automne (Autumn study)

Here days are gray;

here gold goes on

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creating leaves

to rhyme with russet, yes -

to syncopate

with auburn, lemon, almond.... Voices of gold

keep crying across

the dark of the bark, the mesh of memory.

Here days are gray

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to let the brush

touch the palette between us.

There is no crimson in our lives

as gold defines our season.

Leaves are moments - lovely, lingering....

Autumn in us

is their ceaseless language of falling within.

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