That perfect stillness
that silence broken
only by the occasional
plaintiff note of birdsong
the sky grey
the trees on the horizon
in various stages of undress
some leaves turned to gold
others to copper
still others to a green
drained of all life
pollen has been replaced
by dry dust and grime
I hear the drone
of a jet plane lost
in the dense cloud cover

When a heart is broken
it continues to beat
for a while before it dies
when the year is ending
there is always hope
that the next one will be
better in every respect

John Lyons