Grasses are taller; nettles are tougher;
apples are redder; leaves are more leather;
brambles are ripe at the garden back,
and only one wasp comes to pester.
Sun still has power, between the cloud glower;
yet cold's here, sent back in time,
from some future autumn.
It's jacket weather:
hold it together; keep it all on track.
.
YOU ARE READING
Keep The Home Fires Burning
PoetryA poetry Collection. Now Lunk has taken to his bed, swearing not to write one more word about C, and muttering 'bloody garden', it behoves (Love that word, don't you?) me (and Anima) to fill out his shoes, with soil and flower seed. So we will be 'e...
