Wednesday 29 September 2010

Leave Taking


You can tell that the weather has changed when the dog takes up her position in front of the Aga. 




Leave Taking

Storms lashed and now the leaves have turned
burn-bronze and yellow on the wind.
It's warm
and swarms of wasps stagger
woozy on windfalls.

The pond perfume, so sweetly rank
adds to the falling note,
speaks softly of decay
although today is kind,
sunshine between the showers.

But,
it's over.
There's that melancholy sense of loss,
leave taking once again.
Blooms mottle into mould. I look out socks and jumpers
and, like summer, I feel old.

3 comments:

  1. What a great poem and I absolutely love your stove!! take care, Maryann

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  2. this is my favorite poem so far, but i think i said that about the last one too. you are truly gifted.

    and don't even get me started on that aga. are you kidding me?

    ~janet

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