Now the shadows of the year
Grow longer, now the colours
Of the year turn away from the green
Streaming into gold and red and yellow and orange
Fire colours in the cold air of autumn
Now the little groups of birds hunt for
The winter food stores
The wind blows cold through the open window
White clouds drift across the pale blue sky
A clear sun lights the hills, it’s heat a shadow
It’s fire is lost, lost into the crisp dying leaves
Of the golden trees.
Soon we will see the filigree of winter,
Instead of this faded memory of High
Summer days, high unending skies, gulls calling across
The bay. Light deep into night, stars like diamonds
In velvet.
Memory is not the same, I shiver in the wintered wind.
Will these northern winds bring the wild swans?
Will geese from Svalbard feed on these fading fields ?
All those pumpkins won’t frighten the winter sprites
As they take the colours away from the land,
Leaving here and there flashes of red on the rowans
To show the birds where there is food,
The holly dark green sharp leaves keep birds and sprites
at bay, hiding their red drops till the feasting times of the Nativity
and the turning of the year
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