Autumn leaves fall from the trees, dancing their way to the ground on the breeze. Fiery colours line the avenues and streets, dappling the low sun as the horizon it meets.
Summer fades, gradually holding on to the sun’s last heat, like it’s dying and struggling for its last heartbeat. Children run and jump and kick the leaves, wearing hats and scarves with boots upon their feet.

The council pile the leaves so high and neat, until flailing feet they meet. With an explosion of colour, the flames of the fire take to the sky once again, until onto the earth they retire, rotting and mulching as they expire.

Cold mornings, frost on the grass, brisk winds whispering behind window glass. Roads and paths freeze with speckles of diamonds and glass, glistening in the light of the headlights that pass.

Comforting food in stewing pots with dumplings like giant spots, warming the insides of frozen bodies, curled up with hot toddies and blankets wrapping intertwined bodies.
Autumn fades as darkness pulls down its shade as winter gloom comes on parade.

© All Rights Reserved mark Symmonds 2018

 

2 thoughts on “The Fall

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