Autumn Music

dedicated to Bruno Eckhardt
finished 26.5.2024

A sea of solemn faces
A gathering of gray hair
Announced in our paper
I came because I care

This morning, I gently brushed
The dust off my black shirt
While others in the dewy grass
Were digging up the dirt

And now I'm in the last row   
The light is low and dim
The room is filled with people
I barely made it in

There is a man with glasses
Who tells us how you were
I feel a little tense
The present I'd prefer
    
And while he speaks, I notice
How my attention fades
'cause outside, in the aspen trees,
The autumn music plays
And the cold breeze from the north
Blows through the open doors  
Nice day for a funeral
But why must it be yours?

We all stand in a circle
Some things can't be rehearsed
There's no routine in grieving
Each time feels like the first

No one tells you how to bow
Your head or say good bye
Or how to say I'm sorry
For your loss, and still I

Want to find words that have not been used
A million times and one
But then, it doesn't matter
I shake hands and move on
    
Before I get to talking
Or start to cry at last
I feel a little tense
Here on the trampled grass

I like to be outside
But not on days like these
Although the autumn music
Is playing in the trees
And if I were alone, the weight
Would have me on all fours
Nice day for a funeral
But why must it be yours?
    
I think of how, at night,
Your train has left the station
I'll see you on the other side
Of the equation