October morning

by poetrydiary

I fly with the early morning autumn light,
wary of the cold, damp leaves (warming slowly to a glow)
but alighting on a raindrop, spider’s web weight,
and sparkling.

A bridgehead for the rising sun, in this October day,
multiplied in the water, I fly faster, drawing arrows
in the air; pointing at puddles and clouds,
strangely red.

But not for long; lightened by the rising murmur
of a milk float and early morning cars, becoming white
and dissolving to a china sky; a seductive,
doubtful blue.

A split horse chestnut case lies on the path,
bright green and white, like the clouds,
and slightly battered, unlike the nut;
glinting brown.


Inspired by my walk to work this morning.

Posted on dVerse.