Late Autumnal Breeze

Short poem I thought of while looking out my window.

Late Autumnal Breeze







A perfect white circle is cut out

of the ebony night sky.

It illuminates the yard

below my window.



Silver shadows sway to the

rhythm of the trees.



The conductor takes his place

and cues the band

as the wind and the leaves

begin to perform their

early-winter nightsong.