First Western Fall

A poem.

First Western Fall

The geese flew over today
The first sign of summer fading away.
Rough leaves, rust burnt spiral to dirt.
Hedgehogs snuffle, fox frozen in headlight.
An anglo night.
But I am here
with languid days and chill fog nights
caught between seasons
flip flops for ever and I
I sigh for the rain
And try to explain why I stay.

Keely Parrack

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