seasons

I’ve mentioned bonfires a couple of times in the last week, and I reckon half the village have been out in their gardens, taking advantage of the sunshine and what, for many, is a long weekend. They haven’t all been busy at the same task, though:

Clear
above the bitter smoke of bonfires
the scent of new-mown grass

 
I was particularly surprised by that as my lawn looked like this until about midday:

Night ran her fingers through the grass
and left it furred with white

 
I’ll complete the post with two more photos from this morning:

Sound of raindrops:
chestnut leaves
patter from the blue sky

 
Here it was the scarlet berries that caught my eye – far brighter in real life than in the photo:

Holly berries
bright above an ivy hedge;
Christmas looms

 
Incidentally, when I downloaded the photos to my computer, I realised the camera was still running on summertime, so it’s not just me who’s confused about the seasons.
 
 
A reminder that some of the short poems from this blog have been brought together in the eBook Poems from the pueblo: Haiku & assorted fragments. There are several formats available for download (FREE) and you’ll find full information over on the books page of my website. Feedback and reviews are always appreciated.

Author: don't confuse the narrator

Exploring the boundary between writer and narrator through first person poetry, prose and opinion View all posts by don't confuse the narrator