AUTUMN EQUINOX

Web flash morning -

Poised and bobbing on Arachne’s thread,

Nimbly spin your myth of sloe-eyed beauty,

lush and bramble-sweet.

Drop your orchard fruits on rain-greened grass,

Laid to resk in scattered languor,

Bruised and wasp-wreathed in succulent decay.

Show me napped-facet field flints,

Ancient past imagining, yet sharp as first frost.

Tempt me with low sun warmth, hop and berry,

colour wash.

Take me and turn me in your slow waltz,

Your circle dance,

Your sinking cycle spiral...

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