Gorse gleams yellow
in the setting October sun's rays.

A brisk north-easterly
sends grassy ripples offshore
towards the incoming tide.

Down sloping meadows
an unseen bird cheeps,
it’s call swept out across
the wide blue bay.

Weather-beaten, a fence
stands furloughed,
the summer’s sheep and cattle
now called home to safer pastures.

And I stand facing east
reflecting upon the passing year,
and upon an unknown  future.

But of one thing I am certain.
One day my ashes will
join you here for all eternity.