Saturday, 12 October 2013

Skulls And Crossbones

ridge
tall trees. spikes
filtered
through a gauze of mist.
The slow railway line
washes out everything else.
except autumn's skulls
and crossbones 

 

4 comments:

  1. spikes
    filtered
    through a gauze of mist

    So then, Autumn's here.

    Great poem, Jonathan.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It is indeed. Autumn I mean.

      Thanks WB!

      Delete
  2. Remembering that annual slight shiver of something not quite fear,
    it's always the haunted (haunting?) time of year,
    we normal folk are almost tempted to believe,
    here at Gardening Leave.

    ReplyDelete

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