late november
a petal staid on wet slate
slanting
sun searing the surf
swimming
against a black sky
blown vivid
rainbows everywhere
so many late leaves
gibbering
in the wind’s light like
caught earrings
reflected across a wall
wet seats and bejewelled tables
at half empty cafes
wry smiles in dryrobes
probably
a fast cooling sea
it’s a climb down
running from a shower
rattling the remaining
leaves not long now
and we can call it
the winter of
one of life’s
contentions
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