Facing Winter

The silky afternoon sun Bathed the river In silver streaks. From tree lined banks Fading leaves turning brown Gave up and fell Like soldiers going over the top. Climbing up cast iron trunks Ivy crept, Choking their hosts Alder and Sycamore, It didn’t care which. Weeping willow, And white willow, Lining the bank fared better. Survival of the fittest Prevailing over God’s plan. The beauty of wild nature Raw, ugly, brutal, Far removed from Manicured country parks Late autumn, Preparing for winter And survival.