November 2014

Rude awakening, non-stop och-och-och of a pheasant…

Pheasant’s stammered call
chops up the morning quiet.
Pick up the pieces.

(28/11/14)

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Gradually, in the rain, all that incredible gold and bronze and copper and other, indefinable colours are darkening…

Autumn’s hoard of gold,
amassed in those better days,
slowly tarnishes.

(21/11/14)

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It’s hard to let go of summer and that amazing Autumn…

Like the shedding trees,
we cling to bright, warm colours.
Winter denial.

(14/11/14)

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In reverse alchemy, the weather turns gold leaves to brown…

Sky-emptying rain
bronzes the gilded carpet.
Browned-off leaves let go.

(07/11/14)

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