Saturday 17 October 2020

autumn

 autumn


where the seeds are blowing to the falling still

and sunlight spiders the pine cones fill

upon the limestone in a lichen sun

all that salts a coastal walk begun


step the fungi lightly on october’s fields

where inquisitiveness wrapt in hushedness kneels

and dry grasses to the thistle rosette yields

the joy at the fullness that autumn feels


long-beamed the cooling setting sun

a crimson lancet across the calmest bay

warm rocks lament unrequited fun

as with tears in our eyes we swim away


hushed shadowed long and homeward bound

what was lost has now at last been found

and down all winters frozen paths

we will think of spring around glowing hearths

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