I left the French doors open
And autumn came to the kitchen
With dried leaves at the stove
And bees at the window screen
Crisp and curled they blew
Across the kitchen floor
Gathering in the corner
Between the cupboard and the door
Swirling around the chair legs
A promise of change
Collecting in eddies
Wild, fragile, untamed
And as the leaves collect
In the corners near
So does the autumn of my opinions
Become clear
They too collect drying and dying
On the forest floor of my mind
Rotting and composting
Within the cycles of time
Andy Macleod is a writer, poet and thinker. He is studying a Bachelor of Arts, majoring in Literature and Writing, at Edith Cowan University. He enjoys short story writing and his poems have been published in two non-fiction books. He lives, works and studies in the Southwest of Western Australia.
I can feel this poem in my very being. Amazing stuff.
ReplyDeletegreat poem feels as if your in it real presence
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