What is that song you play tonight?
It rolls across the cobalt eve
Where finger-tips of silver-white
Strum branches aching for their leaves
What is that melody we hear?
Of still and starless diadem
Tolling the waning of a year
In farewell notes of snowflake gem
Who plays this moody minuet
A sudden, surging solitude
Where daylight rests her weary head
As rushing winds are calm, subdued
Where is the Maestro that instructs
This tender, tortured euphony?
It trembles in the midnight arch
And drifts across the frozen lea
What is that song; a humble hymn
Autumn’s postlude, a lullaby
That trickles from the silent scrim
Of deep November-night good-bye
© Janet Martin