the pearl of layer cake clouds appears
beyond the windows laced with rain
although this summer's intransigent green
allows not yet the hint of flame
to trace the trees to me it's clear
it's mid October of the year
a rubied hush is in the light
an ochre timbre in the wind
and to myself I can't pretend
though summer lingers
there's an end
to certain chapters I've not read
the haunt of living and the dead
memories crowd the thickening air
and catch the heart out, unaware.
oh God to me some moments more
of this Ocrober I implore
to line the lemon stars at dusk
with all that soon must turn to rust.
mary angela douglas 16 october 2021
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