Autumn Gulley


Autumn draws its breath, down the gulley,
The air is cold, water skinny
Reluctantly, tipping crows beneath
The caustic depths.

Lament only, in ochre rich beams-
My feet are wet and weary,
Scuffling forward, bubbling whitened brooks,
Wash my dark away.

Corroding, dropping snails. Underneath
Its carapace, feet heavy,
The creamy broth is understated,
Regretfully.

© copyright Eve Redwater 2011

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