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Jonathan Finch
Poems
Jul 2016
IN THE AUTUMN
Autumn drops from the spit of summer.
It is brown, well-mealed,
perhaps a little burnt;
its plush resplendencies are gone,
its fruits are split.
That spring, that summer
grimace in a scattering of husks, a wizened apple,
is unbearable;
and at the core:
pipped deaths, abbreviations, futures going hard.
This poem was written for a miners' Eisteddfod, and liked!
#nature
#change
#free
#verse
#decline
Written by
Jonathan Finch
Thailand
(Thailand)
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