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.