Poem 57 – Season’s End

All gone! The brilliant greens and vivid blues
Are drained of their vitality as winter
Cuts it’s teeth and autumn fades
Its timorous light barely heats before
Withdrawing into early evening dark
And even our speech seems subdued
Under the laden air that heavily hangs
Until whispering we withdraw home too

The usually colourful Lea Valley suddenly felt dulled on today’s afternoon walk.
(12.12.21)

© Ben Quant 2021

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