Autumn extended her song.
She was seen stroking her colours on the land
as she stretched her breath to January;
to when snowdrops were pushing to be over ground.
She stretched her warmth.
Brought rare sights -
leaves falling, gathering on pavements.
And she kept the child in me happy
to be kicking the piles and piles of them
to floating in the air.
Seems mythological now thinking of yesterday.
To a few years ago.
When the stretch of a season was certain.
Trees bare by November.
The digging stopped in December.
The land resting in coldness.
The seasonal calendar like life itself
has shown her unpredictability.
Nothing certain.
Nothing standing still.
Autumn Extended Her Song
January 2006 ©