Autumn
This season reminds us
That there is beauty in age
Swathes that once were green
Change on the canvas
To red, gold, orange and yellow
Slabs of vivacious colour
Touched with a broad brush
Swept by a casual palette knoife
Brandished in the breeze
When all the colour has gone
The season will speak
And its voice will be frail
And we will turn to ideas of sleep
The warmth of rest
Under cover of darkness
And sometimes...
We will gather around the fire
And share stories
Staring into the flames
Recalling the spirit of summer
And the generosity of life
And the changing seasons