the harvest is in,

leaving rich gleanings for birds:

three crows skirmish …

 

the hush of night rain

rinsing grateful autumn leaves

after weeks of drought.

 

autumn in August:

leaves already brown, falling

a premature death ...

 

autumn palimpsest:

red, yellow, bronze leaves carpet

these woodland pathways ...

 

after the night storm

acorns peppering the earth

under ancient oaks.

 

snap, crackle and pop

go acorns underfoot as I

walk into autumn.

 

horse-chestnut trees rust

into bronze, dropping their nuts -

one more year's work - done.

 

what does the wind say?

only the leaves understand

its blustery code ...

 

the field harvested,

ploughed, harrowed, planted: my feet

reclaim the path across …

 

moon’s pale fingernail

high in the October sky –

holding back the tides…

 

this green blush on fields

as the tide of winter wheat

washes over them …

 

springtime in autumn

as primroses bloom again –

seasons out of joint …