embersept

Spider webs hang in silkened geometry

lairs as larders in the gossamer dawn,

engineered to snare the passing menu of autumns touch

and the travelling light of lengthening shadows.

Hedges sway, enjoying the ease of Septembers warmth

waiting for entropy to denude its ragged form.

Birdsong, empty of migrant melody, belonging now to native clans : 

tit, sparrow, blackbird, robin, finch

filling the space that the drifters left behind,

swallows gone, 

swifts gone, 

martins gone,

flights taken to faraway second homes

leaving the spiders to fend for themselves.

Mists, not yet forming in the autumns breath

as baked ground re-verts awaiting the shortening days.

Russet docks offer deep orange swagger to the tapestry about to tweed

a poor year for acorns and cobbs

robbed of a seasons joy by the parch of swelter,

meanwhile rosehips profuse and mock the rowan, wearing its deficit nobly.

Maybe there weren’t enough slugs to manage the balance

resulting in a kilter which doesn’t quite recognise itself.

A fly lands at the edge of my vision

triggering anansi’s knowing reflex,

breakfast is waiting.