singing on my Maple, a staple
holding my pages together
by wires. But she tires
like autumn’s

sun. Turning her green to
yellow, cooling the air
between us.  She was
carried off in a breeze,

letting go like a sneeze. I was
ill-prepared.  How well we
paired! Branches hung with smiles
and notes are flung like acorns

afloat on a riverbed. Colors bled
deep velvet red. Silence, a knife
slices through my life as a sword
hitting every chord.