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