Autumn light

Softly they walk on a day in October
The old man and sunlight among olive trees
Planted when his grandfather was young.

On the track hove marks from sheep
That walk here daily on the way home
After grazing upland.

Bits of fleece on thorny bushes
Black pellets and the pungent aroma
Of the woolly-backed still lingers.

He sees the old cottage, warped roof
And bushes grow through the floor
He doesn’t stop; it was all so long ago.

Light is fading time, to leave for him
Autumn evening evenings can be chilly
Not so good for his chest.