










on the turn, mixed pickings,
still some sweet juice to be had,
to stain fingers and tongues

a burst of autumnal rusts and reds
a westerly-north wind, evening coming on
a warm meal in my belly
be in the moment, absorb it.

the beauty of autumn is scars
and well -worn wounds,
a weathering soul and willing heart

landscape on the turn
throws me back to another time, another place
in the mountains of Lazio
we gathered to write
taking inspiration from the changing colours
we gathered to share
visiting the ruins in Rome
ice creams and coffees
we gathered to create magic

raindrops on petals
a delicate caress is
felt within the soul



leaves changing colour
chilly strolls with hands deep
in pockets, in wonder and awe