YOUR POEMS

Thoughts On Fetching The Papers

Like an oyster, the horizon splits to reveal the pearl that is the sun.

But it is slower now.

The dawn chorus have forgotten the tune and in the trees, golds are coming into fashion.

A chill, spiteful breeze has found a way under my collar, while overhead, chevrons of geese flee the season.

I always feel a sense of loss this time of year.

I have lost friends, too.

One by one they have fallen, silently, like leaves.

A glass half empty future beckons.

But, sure as this turning earth will bring the spring

I know I shall see them again.

We shall all burst forth, and turn our faces to the light.

Seasons wax and wane, but hope remains.

Smile.