A Watery Grave

Mondays come round all too quickly
taking the glitter off the weekend.
Even skies cry and the lone gull
stamps around the garden
waiting for the worms to crawl.
We buried the snowdrops
with the last leaf fall
and the recent chill has
sapped the strength and even
ivy finds its fighting a losing battle.
I watched the goldfinch dart from
their nest inside the chestnut trees,
steering clear of the speckled thrush
that hopped and with its beak
tossed through the remains
of autumns harvest.
Monday is a dreary day
as the red and brown fields stretch
Far, far away into the distance
only to dive into the heather strewn cliffs
and meet a watery grave.
I wonder if this is the worst of all
or is there more to come?





Poetry by Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 676 times
Written on 2007-10-01 at 16:37

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lastromantichero The PoetBay support member heart!
You have captured the lonley mood of Autumn with this poem tinged with darkness but your ability to create atmosphere remains impeccable well done rgds Mike x
2007-10-01