I stood on the wet sand
On
that cold autumn morning
In
the autumn of my years
With
the breeze off the sea
Chilling
my old bones
And
gazed out across the bay
To
the distant purple hills
Their
edges blurred and softened
By
the early morning mist
Their
indistinct silhouette
Reflected
on the moving water
The
tidal water pulling at the reflection
As
it moved inexorably to the open sea
And
seemingly carrying with it
All
of my unfulfilled hopes and dreams
With
a shiver I turned from the scene
And
made my way along the beach
My
eyes were drawn to the hillside
Where
the sparsely covered trees stand
With
the last of the leaves falling
Each
fluttering to the ground
Each
leaf’s fall symbolic
Like
the dates of a calendar
Being
peeled off one by one
Ticking
off the days of my life
As
I head towards my winter
No comments:
Post a Comment