Monochrome

JEFFREY GANTZ

MONOCHROME

Sullen, uncertain, the autumn air

droops its dull haze on the grey mirror

of canals and waterways. A desultory wind

loiters about empty parks and squares,

the lindens, bereaved and naked, overlook

drab esplanades where diffident mallards

peck at a faded grass. In the torpid afternoon

the sun bids its slow, incessant farewell;

time hangs suspended, and you burn

the leaves of yesterday, the leaves of tomorrow.