All the leaves fallen

Red, orange, brown

Each step their sound

My feet touching


 Summer passed lightly

Now we feel the change

Gathering all around us

We walk towards some


Bright light filtered

Makes a cathedral

A shower 

A warm bower. 


Resting awhile, 

We wait. 



No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

Is Not

  Writing's not a comfy chair Alan Bennett said  And I thought  A person's not a house Character's not clothes Love is not a bun...

  • Epilogue
    Jolie Laide There she hangs, his masterpiece and her own, Immortalised in paint, painted over until, A finished moment masks all tha...
  • What she had become - a beginning
      Her beating heart, so tired now, nerves worn thin with worrying, Her legs, led her, running on empty, to the place where she could rest ; ...