DOORS + WAYS

In the shop doorway
The wind blew its hardware into
all the dead corners, leaves piled
on high
Crinkled and crisped in autumnal
flavours which chattered and
nattered and flurried and
scattered... Collecting,

Up hats scarves and stray
strands of hair meanwhile
None of god's hardware was the
slightest aware of
The battles and forces, the
setting of courses as all like the
leaves in their colours,
Dispersed

M P 29/10/21