poetry diary

Autumn light on leaves.
Golden, like the ring on my finger,
And just as magical.

It was so windy last night,
with rain.
The ring slipped off again,
And again. Rain battered. It’s cold.

And miserable. Outside,
But inside feeling warmer
It’s not so bad.

Imagination bridges in and out;
Past and future;
Me and all of you.

And cannot be trusted:
Magic – like the ring on my finger.
Except it’s gone now.

© 2010 Matthew Rhodes