Monday, 11 November 2024

11th November 2024

 

A new soul, please. Mine is tarnished.


recharging batteries

last cut of the season

mowing by moonlight


© Rachel Green November 2024


becoming insular

as autumn turns toward winter

cold fingers, cold toes

and an unexpected pain in the abdomen.

Trees are still full of leaves

and I ate an apple from the tree

still crisp and sweet.

Nasturtiums still blooming

and the reflowering of an antirrhinum

long after the bees have begun

their long winter dormancy.

A pound of organic carrots

has gone up fifteen percent;

soon there'll be no farmers

and civilisation will collapse

for want of migrant workers.

Today I'll wear gloves

for my daily walk.


© Rachel Green November 2024


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