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corner shop

man with a bag hurries home

the hurtling streets

The day of the last leaf-fall. The cold wind gusts hard and dins in the branches of the tall sycamores. The air is alive with the falling. Larger leaves dance and blow in the fitful air; scimitar leaflets slice to the ground; winged seeds gyrate and crash. From the watchers  standing beside the steel fence arise cries of joy as they raise their arms to salute the tumultuous event. At this, the culmination, a metallic sun cuts and dazzles in the paling sky.

steel rails

the last train rushes past

stray cat

dedicated to Ursula K. Le Guin (died 22/1/2018)

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