The terrible tears have all been wept
and only a few dark brown cello notes
hang in the afternoon air,
night’s sullen heart reverberated.
You were always an empty street,
lit with pale yellow lamps,
never a fellow traveler.
I asked you to take my hand
and walk me home
and you answered with bones
and the silence of bones,
the carcass of autumn,
already stiffening into winter.