Was There a Coat in the Hall?

He became a fairy tale
With a talent for the dark
Arts of allegory,

Or an allegory
With a talent for the dark
Twist of a fairytale.

Last night’s rain left the street.
Now, clouds on the ice-field
Advance and then retreat,

Teasing views of new snow.
The weather has shifted—
Warmer, drier, weirder

All in all—but autumn
Still looks most like autumn
And no other season.

So, what’s the story here?
Man in a long black coat
Was recently spotted

Lurking under maples
As their leaves sifted down.
There’ve been two funerals,

And one death so far left
Unaddressed. That third death
Was the strangest. A man

Who had been sick for years
Had an uncommonly
Good and vigorous day—

Went for a walk, boasted
He’d gotten the better
Of death, strolled home and packed

For a trip he hadn’t
Planned to take. Gave himself
A hair cut. Then sat down

And waited for morning,
When he was found seated,
Still, dead, his hands folded.

Could have been fairy tale,
Maybe allegory.
What about that black coat?