Autumn

For October, where the shadows are

She’s here again, on silent cat feet,

Creeping around every corner,

Finding gaps in window frames.

Making edges sharp and rimed with silver;

Denuding the trees and crisping their stolen leaves,

Scattered like discarded tickets to a long forgotten show.

Summer has gone; lazy days and long afternoons are no more;

Misty breath and frost muting what was once

Technicolour glory.

Everything is now in tones of beige and taupe.

The light slants in silver slivers,

Gently warmed by sunset’s mauve and umber shadows,

And the sour orange and bitter sodium yellow of street lamps,

On so early, making shadows dance and stretch,

As dusk slinks in at last, like a long lost cat.