Yesterday in Paris the fall snuck in
Skittering down the Boul’ Mich’ soundlessly
In dog-day heat, beneath unmoving limbs
And met with me.
I was mid-stroll aiming at the Seine
With little song-twigs burning in my mind,
Smoky ones and strange and sad and purple ones
Telling of my death.
The fall caught up to me and whispered something strange
And Saint-Michel quivered deep down under
Screaming as the prankster leaves
Clattered up the Boulevard.
All in a moment: the summer caught full unawares
But fall had already cackled its way away
Out of town. I and only I had known
Its footfall here, beneath the moaning limbs.