The clown in autumn

Not much unlike others; he used to put on
his toothless smile, and blink to his soul
in the mirror, "I'm no bounder, but one

From a bunch of smart gamblers,betting our life
on the birth or fall of leaves.I love the brew
of dreams, a bath in the vapour of a hot spring
and the nostalgia of country wine.

Each day is a rattle on rails.Everyday every one
meanders. But not me. Am I not a laughing Buddha,
seasoned to echoes of frail applauds, they remind

the iciness of autumn.But never fear, my good chum,
each day is a step towards eternal gleam." That day,
his eyes had a strange fire. That day, there was
a strain of violin in the wind.They found him hanging,

One limp bay leaf in an autumn mist.