Bowing to the season

an arrangement of pine cones, dry leaves and branches

One finds it hard to believe summer ever existed at all
She turned her back on us and off it went
in the fields some wind has shaken the trees out of their exhaustion
and into golden amazement.

(The edges of the leaves already shivering
Remembering stillness remembering dew and dark mornings)

Grace is in them for they wouldn’t retain
The brightness of the passing season
But bend instead
To the decaying force

Of October’s will

Bowing to it as humans do to love.

The TV was on, as ever claiming some nonsense
Love is Everything it says
It’s as simple as that.

But Summer is so far behind
It’s been like a long in-breath of light and fire.

Autumn is now blowing its relief on us
We get swept away but slowly,
With grace the leaves are scattered
And those pages yet to be written all around me
Among them a half-torn ticket to the play we saw last week
And all the dust from the abandoned days.


Photo by Karolina Badzmierowska

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