It seemed like any other autumn evening.
The foliage of the deciduous trees decorously glided
To earth: a gamut of fertile browns with a leavening
Of yellows and a tinge of russets. The light, provided
By a superseded but fatherly sun, seeped
Away into the velvety, swaddling, five o’clock gloom.
Above us, Concorde’s silver beak peeped
Out from the curving, milky clouds, its boom
Like an Aztec god with colic. Yes, it all
Looked exactly the same as we toddled off to tea,
(As any good child must at that hour). Yet, small
Though it was, some tiny thing had changed — which we
Were well aware of, that mellow night-fall
In October, thinking of the spring to come, to be.
The foliage of the deciduous trees decorously glided
To earth: a gamut of fertile browns with a leavening
Of yellows and a tinge of russets. The light, provided
By a superseded but fatherly sun, seeped
Away into the velvety, swaddling, five o’clock gloom.
Above us, Concorde’s silver beak peeped
Out from the curving, milky clouds, its boom
Like an Aztec god with colic. Yes, it all
Looked exactly the same as we toddled off to tea,
(As any good child must at that hour). Yet, small
Though it was, some tiny thing had changed — which we
Were well aware of, that mellow night-fall
In October, thinking of the spring to come, to be.
(4.4.1997)
