Written in this season last year. Read last week in our local Harwich poetry group as the theme was Autumn. The first three contributions read, mine included, all mentioned roads.
This poem came together in Chest Wood near Colchester.
At the completeness of the year
Yellow, scarlet, claret, orange flare
One dissolves in the other, unique colour,
Beech, dogwood, spindle, aspen, elm
Blazing dead fronds of bracken. Robins still sing.
Last swallow lingers.
Soft damp, a hint of fertile rotting
Cold, sharp, a sense of winter’s hardening
Tumult of migrants misted in the air.
Past the long changing wood
The road runs fast, cars jockey,
Schedules are met, business done
And the computers speak
Of golden beaches in the sun.
copyright Simon Banks 2012