An autumn meditation

Leaves drop,

copper, amber, gold:

floating,

drifting,

heaping up,

ready to be

swirled

by a gust of wind,

kicked through

by welly-booted feet,

gathered up

by the gardener’s rake.

Leaves drop,

acorns fall.

Conkers ripen:

splitting spikes reveal

shiny jewels within.

Branches stretch

unencumbered;

trees unclad

stand brave

as winter comes.

Leaves drop.

Winter waits

in wind and fog and ice.

In weeks ahead,

leaves long gone,

buds will swell on branches

and early flowers sprinkle colour

upon cold air.

But for now,

leaves drop,

and layer the earth

with fiery clothes

wrapping warmth within.

Copper, amber, gold -

all turn to brown,

bequeath their treasure to the soil,

and take their rest.