As I stood denuded
at the crossroads
with hands raised upward,
eternity descended unto my open palms
with the silence of benediction
upon my life’s last Autumn.
In the mellowed stillness of the wilderness
the last skinny leaf of an ancient oak
fluttered silently
and nose-dived
into the icy-ground of the
ultimate harbinger.
The storm of argument
between the musician and the lyricist
as to what music and diction
would constitute my dirge,
got settled smoothly like the leafy-sediments
on the bottom of a tea cup.
'