Wednesday, December 22, 2004

Autumn Leaves (happy solstice)

Tonight I just picked up the horn and stayed
out of the way, letting the chromosomes
sing their song for once.

They played Autumn Leaves,
a tune I would never
play on a snowy evening
though it's a nice tune in summer.

Why that song when the tree's flurry
lies under the sky's pale foliage?
Perhaps they feel the hand of winter
curling at their throat and harken
back to when death was just beginning.


Maggie said...

And is that because we always look for the NEXT season? Is that why you wouldn't play autumn songs in winter--but ofetn in summer?

Lovely conceit, that last strophe.


paula said...

Very nice and sad, Ranger. I love that last stanza. Happy Holidays to you and S.--Paula

Peter Garner said...

Aish, wings, thanks for the reads. Yeah, that last stanza is a little black. Not sure why. must be this awful weather we're having. Merry Christmas to you both.


Carol from Nevada said...

Hello Ranger,

Wonderful poem. Like how the strophe lines grow 3,4,5, and how your chromosomes own your throat (though I know that's not the point ). The hand of winter being VAST enough to elicit the big picture is the point, I think, and you made it well.

who has been ruminating on the word 'vast' since I read it in Aisha'a Danish poet[Søren Ulrik Thomsen]'s poem about solitude.