a fragment

to a friend

devoid of words expect in poetry the last week or so

perhaps it's the shortening days

and the feel and sound of autumn in the wind

and the rustling of the still green trees

in the darker evenings and dimmer mornings

which take words away

leaving vastness

like the landscape

and their absence

for a cool wind to blow through

not an autumn proper but

a strong feeling of autumn in

the already yellowed and fallen leaves

a thread of autumn weaved in

what remains of the summer

02.08.2019