Autumn Sunday Afternoon

Autumn leaves collect at the fence

incongruously on the damp sand,

Her little red shoes scuff the sky

as he catches the swing and lets her fall again

to squeals of wheeeee delight…

The tide is out, charcoal mud bubbles and breathes under the wheel and turn of the gulls


A man runs by,

that plodding squish, squish of well-cushioned trainer sole, laboured breath rasps in and out,

I think of how that feels-

The music exploding in your ears, the beat-

Your single-mindedness, your fatigue, belies the stillness of running around a lake where families push strollers and stop at the swings

before loading a protesting toddler into the pram, settling her with a snack of red grapes, heavy with the length of a hot remembered summer

and wander home

One thought on “Autumn Sunday Afternoon

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