slipping in so quietly
with no coat to hang,
no boots stamp-stamping the ground,
I barely noticed until today,
this same brittle morning
you chose to announce your return.

a first mist asleep on car windows
rehearsing its winter's role,
as early signs of decay
crackle on earth's new carpet,
tired trees in muted shades
breathe damp infusions.

as autumn's shadows grow,
summer prepar...

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Do you hear a rustle
as you walk among the trees?
Do your ears detect a crackle
as you feel the autumn breeze?

In amongst the birdsong
are there murmurs in the lane?
Do you feel a little something
that your senses can't explain?

Is there a ripple as you roam
along that woodland way?
Is it coming from above
Perhaps it's hard to say?

As you walk the forest's path
Is there whisper ...

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Red Poppies On An Autumn Day

Never forgotten – here to stay,

a symbol of the hurt and pain

where young men will forever lay.

The old man sells and we will pay

to wear a token for the slain -

never forgotten – here to stay.

Would they have approved? Who can say

If what was lost was worth the gain.

Red poppies on an autumn day

They had little choice ...

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For Andy Humphrey, with respect.

Because there's poignant glory in decay.
Because each burst of light may be the last.
Because the rusting hasp on dwindling days
grants access to new treasures from the past.

Because of gold and rubies on the boughs.
Because the bitter apple crop has sweetened.
Because we broke our backs in June but now
the leeks we broke our backs for may be eaten...

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It's an oldie, but appropriate for the time of year...

Why Do Poets Like Autumn?

Autumn is rain.
Pitiless, bucketing, funeral rain
that makes gutters into rivers
and umbrellas into shreds.
Steaming, fetid rain
tasting of mould and death.

Autumn is roadkill.
Rotting little pools of blood and fur,
once hedgehogs, pheasants, rabbits;
Concertinaed bonnets of Audis
askew across t...

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Another moist, reluctant sunrise
through the night sweat morning dew
emancipated
the worm pushed towards the light
loosely erect

Across the lawn
the over stuffed pigeon
puffed up her unkempt plumage
cooed a taunt
How dare you wake up today
How dare you show that you tried today

Waddling heavily
she pinched him up
gluttony oozing
heaved him away
apatheticaly consenting to his fat...

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