The last signs of summer.
the seed heads, the leaves
scattered on an abandoned pond,
the virginia creeper showing off
a flimsy gown of red and brown,
trailing through spent apple trees,
upstaging the flowers, a final fling
before succumbing to wind and rain.
(Went to a poetry session at the Hatchery in Hove Library this morning for ‘The definitive workshop on Poetry’ by Clair Shelton-Jones. well prepared and lively – had a good time and things may yet emerge from it.)