A trickle of music br down the hall from my flat br floats slender fragments of sound-- br Harmonis leaves glide down br out of cool, autumnal Brahms; br br silver whispers touch my cheek br and I shiver; they are notes, br small and tender, tiny pulses br along my senses-- br blue and burgundy percussions br against cloudy remembrances-- br br next sunlight I look down br into a backyard swimming pool br deserted by ballons of summer laughter; br I glance up to see green fields hazed by heat br give way to wheat now; br br Dark red leaves br lie still on the pool's bottom, br sliding, fading, almost forgotten.