Friday, 27 October 2023

My Autumn

My Autumn 


Oh, so, so, towards the dark we go

One whole self, now, grow, slow, decay

Broken, scattered, fragments, I know

this corse of mine, festering day by day

No shield for the cold winds that blow

Here I rest and here I stay

Fall like old grapes, rottening

Feast on mould and bitter juice

Take golden syrup sweetening

Life darkens for I am a recluse

Down right here I rest my sore bones

On soft autumn leaves decompose

On damp earth and cold stones

Sharp, numbing body I repose


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