a windy day

 

 

summer's almost gone

 

 

 a soft sun-lit shaft 

steals silent 

between the shimmered morning 

maidenhair 

moist in the fecund dreams

of a young girl 

 

a solitary tree

stands proud

chained to the floor of the wood

its verdant head

pulsing

with the risen sap

of one last summer morning

autumn beckons

foggy walk

here come the dreams

rime-edge

contours of a leaf

 stammering

head of the dead hare

frozen

in wood and

dreaming

of the bull rushes beyond

wooded walk