autumn
slowly in the slowly aisles
the leaves are in their turning
with fine threads spinning thoughts
of teas poured long down shadows golden
the forecast of storm arriving late in the trees
that have waited long these darkening hours
specks of rain on upward leaves
falling down the light
smeary the rain panes are running now
distorting all the flowers in the yard
that are refusing to go over
it is all so amusing
how the sky is running like dogged sheep
when all around is a shivering blanket
drawing the day closer now as a
spark to the hearth is bearing
turns the month closer now to
winter’s claim foreshortening
to the end of the year
at the end of the year
there are apples still for stewing
‘play it sam
play
as time goes by’
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