With some cheer, I pursue my barebones agenda. I clean up
The kitchen. I go get some cash. Having not found the frame
That I need for my yard sign in stores, I go prowling
The neighborhood streets in search of a frame (and a sign)
I can steal, and I find one, which I run away with, unseen.
I come home to silence, the source of my cheer. The sun's
Shining brightly on leaves which aren't green. They're
Festively colored, though destined to die, and, of course,
In the not-distant future, the children and grown-ups who
Aren't here are bound to return, but neither has happened.
The leaves grace the trees. Cacaphony's absent, and, as
A result, a small measure of cheer lives in me.