i read this as it wrote me yes i did

 i read this as it wrote me yes i did

swallowing the spoon ringing of

a dark breakfast on a wet morning 

in september before october fell

with the denial of leaves that they were ever there

that summer was someone else’s dream

that becalmed was a disease best given air

like consumption in the trees that coughed the wind

that lay deep within the golden chested meadows

pollen petalled and clover rolled

the waiting time was long and hot and hallucinated

in perpetuity

do me a favour my lad and run you away now

wings on heels like the butterflies that exploded

heather bent on raising a hare or a languid fox

here high upon the hill where the north beacons held

the light of winters veil

for 

see how far the sun mist lies upon my thoughts

of going on and on up that stream of rainbow trout

on and on across the midged grassland’s meander

until back for dinner calls your weakening stride

and falling back along september’s steps you dream

of engines steaming on golden stranded excursions

best suited to sea side teas and scones and jam

and damn me if the breeze has dampened cool

for it is cool isn’t it

there’ll be fireworks if i’m late for october’s feast

when sunday school is candled light again

around old ladies scarfs and crinolined angst

for the year is a lover that once was spring

but is now wrapped deep for winter is here again

here now like mun 

dew mun it’s time for tea and toast upon a fork

for a flake or two has lamplighted ere this day

and cosseted in these words will lay me low for

the squirrel’s nuts have closed the day

and breath has steamed up the window’s webbed dust

sleep tight my ciriad golden locks 

sleep tight my bachgen bach

let us take turns to dream the tales

that spring is closeted ere begin