No more evening walks
in sunshine
nor sitting on the balcony
eating cold cucumber soup
while mountains
smile a pink goodnight
Now dark steals day
before work is done.
I cram fingers into gloves,
walk home.
Sharp air knives my cheeks
as yellowed leaves
attack my ankles
then rush to other victims.
Shutters clatter shut,
seal my flat.
A hot bath bastes my bones.
The kettle gurgles,
a tea cup waits.
Far away
Mountains sleep white.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment