Reverberation of Autumn
September 28, 2004

Whistle, a hollow ricochet; October's
drizzling void. Skeletons of summer
crackle on the rain-damp ground.

Warmth eludes the flesh, fingers
now so cold. Murmuring in
the breeze; recollections of then.

Snaking through the valley, vacant
carts howling; the droning shriek
as they turn shoulders away.

Downpours blur each face, apparitions
swarm the crowd. A sodden,
austere prophecy of long tomorrows.