Autumn
I missed the autumn leaves this year.
I rested while they fell.
Tomorrow is another day
we'll hear the church's bell.
The days seem slightly shorter.
The sunshine rather keen.
Closer is the horizon
and night a cooler scene.
The smell of leaves surrounds me.
A wiff after a woft.
The wind shaping the future.
My fate become aloft.
Plastic drapes the gardens.
It's cold air sealed in.
Condensation top-side
and dust where sun has been.
There's trimmings by the roadside
bagged and tied with twine.
Pruned to end the season.
Clippings from the vine.
A garden hose gone missing.
Stored inside the shed.
Drained of all it's water
and exhausted in it's bed.
The dew upon the grass blades
beckoning the sun.
Each morning leaving sooner
as Autumn comes undone.
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