Sunday

autumn

Green becomes red
then orange and brown.
Skeletal hedge rows and mighty oaks
point barren fingers at an autumn sky


A gentle breeze
sends rustling leaves scurrying
and constantly rearranges
natures carpet of many colours

At the day’s end
a setting sun gives way to a ghostly mist
laying low across empty furrows.
A damp chill fills the still air

The time has come
for the earth to rest, to hibernate.
To protect and nourish natures treasures
'til spring wakes them from their winter slumber.

1 comment:

Jinksy said...

You feel the seasons...